by David Ryker
“Go ahead.” Zero rose from the chair. “I think we were at a stalemate anyway.”
“I meant both of you,” she said.
Quinn peered at her as Zero sat back down. “What’s this about?”
“I’m curious, too,” said Zero.
“I’ve been thinking hard for the last few days,” she said. “The money that we got out of my father is useful, obviously, but we need more resources if we really want to pull off this grand plan of stopping the war and preparing the world for an invasion. I think we can all agree on that, right?”
“Of course,” said Quinn. “But agreeing on it and making it a reality are two different things.”
“That’s what I want to talk about: making it a reality. And for my idea to work, I’m going to need both of you.”
Quinn cocked an eyebrow and glanced at Zero before turning back to Chelsea.
“All right, you’ve got me intrigued,” he said. “What do you have in mind?”
Chelsea grinned wide. “I’m talking about a revolution.”
Oscar Bloom was so excited when he stepped into the quaint little seafood restaurant overlooking Hunters Point that he didn’t even stop to sneer at its tacky décor and lack of a decent wine list. His daughter had agreed to meet with him, and that was the first step to salvaging all of his plans, not to mention his $100 billion. And once she heard him out, she would understand why it really would be best for the entire world if she just did as he said.
A hostess ushered him to a private room in the back of the building, where he saw a table made from a single slab on an ancient redwood tree—and Morley Drake sitting at it. His ever-present security drone hovered in a corner nearby.
“Drake?” He felt his pulse quicken. “What the hell are you doing here?”
The tribune eyed him suspiciously. “What do you mean, what am I doing here? You commlinked me last night and specifically asked me to meet you here instead of our usual place. You were going to talk about private funding for the UFT war effort.” He flashed a sneering grin. “Getting a little senile in your old age, Oscar?”
Oscar could feel the blood draining from his face. “My daughter asked me to meet her here. I didn’t commlink with you.”
Drake’s brow furrowed. “Wait a minute—if you didn’t commlink me, then who the hell… oh, no…”
“Shit!” Oscar moaned. “They did it to us again!”
A door on the other side of the room opened and Chelsea walked in, with Quinn and Zero in tow. The sat across the table from Drake and Oscar, sporting shit-eating grins.
“I’ve never done your face before, Oscar,” Zero said genially. “I’m pretty proud of the fact I was able to fool the general here on my very first try.”
“Son of a bitch,” Drake muttered. “I was wondering when you’d show up again.” He turned to Quinn. “And you. I think you’ve been on the run long enough, don’t you? Time to go back home.”
“Well, you’re half right,” said Quinn. “We’ve been on the run long enough.”
Oscar ignored the rest of them and focused on Chelsea. “Darling, I’m so glad you’ve given me a second chance.”
She stared at him for several seconds before shaking her head. “My God,” she breathed. “You really are a knucklehead, aren’t you? I didn’t call you here to listen to you, Dad.”
“I don’t understand…”
“Get a clue, will you?” Drake snapped. “They tricked us into coming here because it makes them feel clever, like they’ve gotten one over on us. So what is it this time, Quinn? What clever plan do you have this time? I’m sure it won’t blow up in your face like the other ones.”
“I think this one may have more legs,” said a female voice from the doorway where the three had just walked in. Oscar looked up to see his wife, looking better than he’d seen her in years: her hair was done, she was wearing make-up and her eyes were clear, without a trace of red. A serious-looking Asian woman in a form-fitting business suit was at her side as they took their seats next to Chelsea.
“Melinda,” he said coldly. “You look… well.”
“Aren’t you sweet.” The strength of her voice was startling; the signature warble had been replaced with a hard edge. “Do you know Tiffany Tranh, my attorney?”
The woman extended a hand that Oscar ignored. “By reputation. Why is she here?”
“Because I’m divorcing you.”
Oscar blinked, uncomprehending. “You,” he said. “Are divorcing me?”
“Oh, shit,” Drake muttered.
“That’s impossible,” said Oscar. “You can’t divorce me.”
“I regret to inform you that my client not only can, she is,” said Tranh. “Effective right now.” She handed him a tablet. “All the terms are in this agreement.”
“Terms?” He still didn’t understand. “There are no terms, because there’s no divorce.”
“Oscar, you can’t do that anymore,” said Melinda. “I’m sober now, and by God, I’m going to stay that way. You can’t gaslight me into doing what you want or believing what you say anymore. It’s over.”
“Nothing is over—”
“You tried to brainwash my child, you sick bastard!” Her tone was acid but controlled, and it scared Oscar more than a little bit. “Now you can either sign this right now, or we can go to court.”
Oscar looked down at the tablet and gave the highlights a quick read. What he saw made him laugh out loud.
“Half my fortune? Don’t be insane, woman.”
“Sorry, Oscar,” she said with a sad smile. “You did your best to make me insane, but it didn’t work. You and that doctor of yours had me questioning everything about my reality, but it didn’t work. And if you don’t want me to contact the authorities and tell them about all of it, and have them question the whereabouts of a certain comatose experimental psychologist, I suggest you sign.”
“You stupid bastard,” said Drake, rubbing his eyes. “Without your fortune, all our plans are ruined!”
“What plans are those, Morley?”
The door opened again to reveal Frank King. He walked in and took a seat beside Chelsea’s friend Quinn, who’d been silent the whole time.
“You think this is some sort of surprise?” asked Drake. “That I’d be shocked to see you? Han told me about Zero’s mission to retrieve you, moron! I knew that they failed and that Quinn and his people had you. I was just waiting for you to show yourself.”
“Well, here I am,” King said in a shooting-the-breeze tone.
“And what are you going to do?” asked Drake. “Thanks to Zero here, the public already knows that you’re back, and that you’ve endorsed my office. We’re besties as far as they’re concerned. Are you going to go public and refute that? They’ll have you hauled away and committed, and I’ll be the sole survivor.”
“I hate to interrupt,” said Zero. “But I think you might be a bit off on your assessment, Morley. See, if I join Mr. King in front of the cameras and reveal that I’ve been impersonating him for months, they might just believe what he has to say.”
Oscar was trying to follow the conversation, but his state of shock wasn’t helping matters. Beside him, Drake’s face was turning red and the vein in his forehead was pulsing.
“You wouldn’t dare,” he growled. “You’d be outing yourself as a cyborg.”
Zero shrugged. “Big deal. I can’t be prosecuted. There was this wonderful little trilateral executive order ensuring full amnesty, citizenship and benefits to all cyborgs. Perhaps you heard about it?”
“It’s over, Morley.” Frank King’s voice was steel. “Everything. You’re going to abdicate and give me your seat on the tribunal, and I’m going to negotiate the future of the government. Your war isn’t going to happen.”
“It has to happen!” Drake bellowed. It was enough to make Oscar flinch. “There’s no other choice!”
“Sure there is,” Chelsea said, her eyes locking on Drake’s. “As soon as my father signs that agreeme
nt, my mother will have a fortune somewhere in the neighborhood of $500 trillion. That will go a long way to helping create technology to help the poor, and to clean the slums and deal with the weather, and address all the other problems that have been ignored by people like you and the Global Families for decades.”
Drake turned to Oscar, his face as red as a beet. “Don’t you sign that,” he croaked.
“Hey, Drake,” said Quinn. “You need to calm down.”
Drake’s face grew redder with panic as he began to pat himself down. “My nitro,” he croaked. “I don’t have it…”
Suddenly the drone in the corner swooped down and scanned him with a green beam of light.
“Cardiac event imminent,” said a cheery female voice. “Medical unit contacted. It will arrive approximately thirteen minutes too late.”
“Oscar, you bast—”
They would be Morley Drake’s last words. A moment later, he doubled over on the table in front of them, dead.
Oscar stared at Drake’s body while the rest of the room exchanged glances.
“You two should maybe get out of here,” King whispered to Quinn and Zero. “The rest of us will stay and deal with this.”
Quinn rose and dropped a hand on Chelsea’s shoulder. “You gonna be okay?”
She nodded and squeezed his hand. “Yeah, Go, I’ll catch up later. Tell the others what’s going on.”
Oscar watched them leave through a fog of numbness that had settled in his brain. He’d never know it, but it was a sensation much like the one his daughter had felt repeatedly while under the dubious care of Indira Copeland.
“Give me that,” he said quietly as he reached across the table and pulled the tablet toward him. He pressed his thumb against the screen, and it instantly turned green. The agreement was signed.
“You made the right choice, Oscar.” Melinda’s gaze was hard. “I truly hope we never meet again.”
Tiffany Tranh took the tablet and slid it into a slim valise as she and Melinda rose from the table. In the distance, Oscar vaguely registered the sound of ambulance drones heading their way.
Chelsea stood, and Oscar reached across the table to take her hand. She looked at him with a mixture of pity and revulsion.
“Darling,” he whispered. “Can you forgive me?”
“No,” was all she said. He watched her turn and leave through the same door she had come in by.
28
ONE WEEK LATER
The sunset over the bay was particularly stunning that night, and they had chartered a yacht to take a cruise around the harbor to enjoy it, courtesy of Melinda Bloom. Chelsea had offered to pay for it out of her own money, and they finally settled it with rock-paper-scissors. Quinn, who had never had more than a thousand credits to his name in his entire life, found the whole thing hilarious.
The boat was about a hundred feet long, so they had offered to bring along a crowd of people who had gathered on the docks to watch the sun go down. They were all very appreciative, but Quinn didn’t even think of their offer as generosity. If there was space, why would they not offer it up?
Chelsea joined him at the rail with a bottle of his favorite beer. He took it and drank greedily—he had spent too much of his life without access to simple pleasures, and he was making up for it now.
“The settlement is done,” she said as she propped her elbows on the rail. “Mom’s money is hers.”
“That’s fantastic.” He grinned. “She deserves it.”
Chelsea smiled back but shook her head. “Nobody deserves half a quadrillion dollars, Quinn.”
“No, I suppose not. But if they do something good with it, then at least it’s not a sin to have it.”
Chelsea touched the rim of her wine glass to his bottle. “I’ll drink to that.”
“I suppose it’s kind of like keeping Zero around—he’s an asshole and I don’t trust him, but he’s a goddamn genius and his plans and schemes have gotten us to where we are. We can’t afford not to keep him around.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, I’m not going to toast to that.”
“Me either. So did you watch the broadcast of Drake’s state funeral this afternoon?”
“Skipped it. I was at the death.” She frowned. “That wasn’t cool. Sorry.”
He shrugged. “Don’t be. I was at a lot of deaths in the war because of people like him.”
“Ben says he’s going to do his first official documentary under his own name on Drake. I can’t imagine where he’ll even start.”
“I’m sure he’ll do it justice. He’s a truth seeker. We need more of them.”
They stood there in silence a while, watching the brilliant reds and yellows flaring out into greens and climbing into blues and finally an indigo color. Quinn noticed Chelsea shudder a tiny bit when she looked up at that part. They still hadn’t heard whether authorities had found Indira Copeland’s body. All they knew was that no one had heard from Oscar Bloom since that day at the restaurant, and Chelsea was happy with that.
“I had a talk with Dev today,” Quinn said finally. “About his dreams. Now that things have finally calmed down, he’s had some time to think about them. He thinks they mean something.”
“Like what?”
“He thinks that Kergan and Toomey survived, and that they’re looking for the element that powers all the Gestalt technology. The one that sent us from the asteroid belt to Uranus in the blink of an eye. He’s worried that all they need is enough element and they could come to Earth and build a giant attenuation amplifier. Take over the world without the Gestalt’s help.”
She sighed and looked at him with a soft smile. “Can’t we just have one night off, Quinn?”
He chuckled. “Okay, one. But we really need to talk about what our plans are. We don’t have the luxury of time, as much as I wish we did. We’ve got what we need to put a plan into motion, and we have to keep our momentum going.”
Chelsea nodded. “I agree, and I think we should talk about that first thing tomorrow.”
“Great.” He took a swig of his beer.
“But there’s something we should talk about tonight,” she said.
“Yeah? What’s that?”
She took his free hand in both of hers and pulled him toward her. His belly gave a little flip-flop as her eyes locked on his.
“Oh,” he said through numb lips. “That.”
She smiled. “Yeah. That.”
He pulled her closer and looped an arm over her shoulders. She snuggled into his shoulder and the two of them looked out at the western horizon, watching the blazing sun finally disappear into the Pacific as the sky turned black above them. The first few stars began to wink at them, and they stood there for a long time, wondering and wishing about the future.
Epilogue
THE DWARF PLANET CERES
The blue spot grew slowly in the screen as the hulking ship slowly descended toward the surface. Kergan was deliberately building the suspense as they got closer, resisting the temptation to simply swoop down and land right on top of it.
I can hear it singing to me, Toomey moaned in his head. Like the sirens of ancient myth, calling me. Telling me to come to it.
“Patience, Doctor,” Kergan said aloud. “Good things come to those who wait.”
The readouts on the screens were confirming what they already knew: that the surface in this area was bursting with God Element. At least a ton of it (in this universe, at least; Toomey’s nimble mind was already trying to figure out how they might get access to it in other dimensions). Finally, after a seeming eternity, the ship’s landing gear extended and clamped into the surface, holding it in place.
Kergan projected his mind into one of the insectile drones, directing it to don its environment suit.
Send them both send them both send them both
The doctor’s mind was gibbering like a toddler. Kergan tried to calm him, but the proximity of the Element seemed to have overwhelmed him in a way it hadn’t with Kergan hims
elf.
“Patience,” he said again. “If we send them both and something happens, we’ll be without a work horse.”
Toomey went silent, but Kergan could still feel him almost like a physical thing, vibrating inside his mind. It was as exciting as it was annoying.
The drone entered the airlock with its shock blaster and waited for the pressure to equalize. When it had, the drone stepped onto the surface. Through its multifaceted eyes, Kergan could see the glow of the element, all but blinding, it was so close.
“Doctor,” he said. “I do believe we’ve hit the motherlode. We should be able to get enough right now to take to Earth with us and build an amplifier. Once we do, we can build an army and come back to get all of the Element. And then…” He grinned under his wild and filthy beard. “Well, then we can start taking over the universe.”
Yyeessss… Toomey’s moan was almost sexual in his mind.
The drone reached the nearest patch of Element and kicked at the surface dust with its boot, exposing a large chunk of the brilliant white rock. Kergan aimed the shock blaster and pulled the trigger, sending out a wave of vibrations that knocked the drone backward several meters. Kergan had only a moment to observe the effects of the blast before a blinding blue light suddenly bathed his every sense, physical and in the astral realm.
And with that, the universe was changed forever.
TO BE CONTINUED.
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