by Terry Miles
“This woman’s name is Nuri Tamaka. She’s next in line as the head of international development for the company. The biggest difference between Nuri Tamaka and the man she will be replacing is that Ms. Tamaka isn’t in the pocket of a large American oil and gas corporation.”
He waved again and another woman’s profile filled the screen. She looked very similar to Nuri Tamaka, but a bit younger. “This is Ms. Tamaka’s sister. What if, two nights from today, Nuri Tamaka—after sneaking into her sister’s apartment to prepare a surprise birthday party—walks in on her fiancé and her sister having sex? Based on our research, we believe this would effectively end Ms. Tamaka’s engagement, which would be significant because Nuri Tamaka and her fiancé have been trying to get pregnant. If Nuri Tamaka remains oblivious of this affair, it’s possible she might plan to have a child and turn down the job, opening the door for another man in the pocket of big oil and gas to step in.”
“Isn’t it also possible,” I said, “and perhaps even more likely, that this woman has a baby and balances her family and career? It happens all the time.”
“Of course,” he said, “but based on a significant number of recorded conversations and recent behavioral trends related to Ms. Tamaka and her fiancé, that outcome is statistically very unlikely. We wouldn’t be employing this level of attention if we weren’t fairly certain about the outcome.”
“So, what, you’re manipulating people’s lives?”
“I was just asking a question, K.”
“These people who work for you, who are they?”
“I’ve found that people drawn to complex games and game theory often have a highly developed sense of pattern recognition and an innate ability to see connections—or, more importantly, possible future connections.”
He waved again and the giant screen went dark.
“This is just a small sample of what we do here. There’s so much more going on beneath the surface—so many systems and events to monitor and influence.”
“What’s happening on the other floors of The Tower?”
“Eighty percent of the building is nothing more than an enormous server farm, I’m afraid.”
“Computers?”
“A whole bunch of them.” He smiled again.
I tried to imagine exactly how much computational power that might be, then gave up. I had no way to comprehend those types of numbers, and I had something else on my mind in that moment.
“How did you know my mother?”
“I met your parents in San Francisco. We worked together for a long time. This”—he motioned around the room—“is the end result of some of that work.”
“I’m not sure I understand. What kind of work are you talking about?”
Crow took a moment, as if he was considering whether or not I was ready to hear the answer. “Are you familiar with Kellan Meechum?” he asked, finally.
“A little,” I said. “Wasn’t his thing other dimensions and ley lines?”
“That was part of it, yes, but there was so much more.”
Crow leaned back against a table and continued. “While working with a group of scientists that would eventually make up a large part of the MKUltra team, Kellan Meechum discovered something incredible—and quite by accident. He’d spent his early life focused on proving the existence of ley lines—a bunch of pseudoscientific nonsense focused on the importance of perceived alignments of landmarks, religious sites, and manmade structures. But in 1945, Meechum stumbled upon something else. While trying to connect ley lines to patterns and anomalies in Fibonacci numbers and Benford’s Law, he uncovered something he referred to as Radiants—theoretical lines running through the world, lines of energy Meechum believed would morph and change as the world changed around them. It’s difficult to explain, this morphing or migration of energy—and Meechum himself admitted he wasn’t completely up to the task. But investigating the cause wasn’t what Meechum was interested in. He was interested in investigating the effect. You see, near the end of his life, Meechum had converted to Christianity. At that point, he believed God had long abandoned this world, and that as a result, humanity was denied access to the afterlife. Meechum was looking for…the other side. He’d become convinced that the Radiants were leading him somewhere. He believed he’d discovered a map to heaven and hell.”
Like his precise numbers theory from earlier, I got the sense Crow believed everything he was saying, but that didn’t make it sound any more believable.
“What if I told you that Kellan Meechum was right?” he continued. “And, although the heaven-and-hell aspect of his theory was nothing more than the religious ramblings of a man approaching the end of his life, his Radiants actually exist?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “That’s pretty out there.”
Crow smiled. “I understand your skepticism. I think you’ll find it much easier to grasp if you compare the Meechum Radiants to Earth’s magnetic field.”
“Okay…”
“Pigeons, foxes, and turtles use Earth’s magnetic field to navigate the world. Cattle align themselves in accordance with it, and dogs as well, when they defecate.”
“I’m sorry, but what do defecating dogs have to do with magical pathways to heaven and hell?”
He forced a smile and continued. “Many scientists believe humankind hasn’t fully lost the power of magnetoreception that we had millions of years ago. As part of Earth’s magnetic biosphere, humans—like those other animals—have always had the ability to detect the magnetic field subconsciously. Before he became obsessed with the religious nonsense, Meechum described his Radiants as a similar, unseeable source of energy—no more magical or strange than Earth’s magnetic field. He believed that if we were somehow able to understand the movements and uncover the language of these Radiants, we might be able to use them to shift or slip between dimensions.”
“Between dimensions?”
“I know. It’s a lot to digest,” he said.
“So you’re telling me my parents believed in the Meechum Radiants?”
“Oh, definitely. That’s one of the reasons they moved up here to Washington State.”
“What does Washington have to do with it?”
“Washington State is home to one of Meechum’s most powerful Radiants: Radiant twenty-three. Meechum often referred to it as the Terminal Line.”
“That’s why you call this place The Terminal?”
“Yes.”
My parents told me they’d moved to Olympia because my mother got a new job. What if this guy was telling the truth? It sounded impossible. My mother worked for a bank.
“I really enjoyed working with your parents, K. I only wish it had been under better circumstances.”
“What does that mean?”
“There were certain restrictions we had to deal with back then—restrictions I’ve since managed to clear up. Now we have the freedom and technology to do so much of what we’d planned back then. I only wish your parents were here now to share this experience.”
“That’s what you were working on with my parents? The Meechum Radiants?”
“That was a big part of it, yes.” He motioned around the room. “I’d like to think we’re honoring their tragic deaths in some small way by continuing to do this work.”
He looked pensive for a moment. “Had I known you were here,” he continued, “I would have made certain we’d met much sooner.”
A slow darkness crept across the room like someone was dimming the lights.
“What does that mean? Had you known I was here?”
“Well, that’s a long story, and I’m afraid I don’t have time to get into it at the moment.” He pulled out his phone and hit a few buttons. “I’ll bet you’re wondering why there’s nobody else working with me here, in such a large space.”
“It does feel a bit…excessive
for one person,” I said. “Although there were a lot of people on that giant screen.”
“The number of remote operatives we have working for us is significant, but there are also people working directly with me here in the building.”
I heard the sound of the elevator doors opening from somewhere nearby.
“Including somebody I believe you know,” he said.
I turned at the sound of footsteps.
A woman in her late thirties or early forties walked toward us from the double doors that led back to the elevators. She was about five foot seven with thick, shiny auburn hair. She wore a brown pencil skirt, a cream-colored top, and tortoiseshell Ray-Ban glasses.
Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open when she saw me. For a brief moment, it looked like she was going to pass out.
“K?” she said, then turned to Crow. “What the fuck is going on?”
It was Emily Connors.
* * *
—
The man called Crow took Emily aside, and the two of them spoke in hushed tones for about a minute. Then, after a sharp glance in my direction, Emily turned around and stalked back out the way she’d come in.
“What’s wrong?” I asked Crow.
I hadn’t seen Emily Connors for years, so why had she gotten so upset? Did seeing my face again remind her of that night in the truck with Annie?
“She’s just a bit annoyed with me, I’m afraid,” Crow said. “She’ll be fine.”
“Can I talk to her?” I asked.
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea just now, but we’ll see what we can do.” There was something almost threatening in his tone as he spoke.
“Sure,” I said, but I was still thinking about Emily. What the hell was she doing here? What was going on?
Crow started walking me back to the double doors that led to the elevator.
It was clear our conversation was over.
I had no idea what had happened to Sidney and Chloe after the elevator had taken me upstairs. Maybe they were still down in the lobby waiting for security clearance.
“I’ll be in touch,” Crow said as he pressed the call button for the elevator.
* * *
—
I took the elevator back down, feeling stunned. Crow? Emily Connors? What the hell had just happened?
The doors opened and Chloe yanked me out and into the foyer. “What the fuck are you doing? We’re getting security passes.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but Sidney shushed me with her hand. “I’ve been able to get us access to the upper floors of the building,” she said.
At that moment, Albert from security arrived holding three laminated security passes. “Sorry for the wait,” he said.
Sidney grabbed the passes from Albert’s outstretched hand and dragged us into the elevator.
Once inside, she scanned her security pass and then pressed the PH button.
“Let’s start at the top and work our way down,” she said.
I nodded. I thought about telling them what was waiting up there, but they’d find out soon enough.
I hoped I’d see Emily Connors again. I had a lot of questions.
Once we reached the penthouse level, the doors opened and we stepped out of the elevator. Sidney led us down the long hallway, through the glass doors, and into the small empty lobby. She took a quick look around, and, just like I’d done earlier, went directly for the wooden doors with the security panel. Something had been bothering me since we’d arrived at the penthouse, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
Before I could tell her that the doors were unlocked, Sidney waved her pass in front of the panel, there was a click, and she yanked open the door.
At that moment, I figured out what had been bothering me. It was the air. The atmosphere was different. The temperature and humidity had changed, and as the three of us stepped through into the penthouse proper, it was clear that something else had changed as well.
We were standing on the same mezzanine looking over the same room, but it was completely different.
The high ceiling was there, along with the three skylights, and the view through the windows was identical. But there was nothing left of Crow’s high-tech lair—no bookshelves, no furniture, no rugs, and no obscure music from the 1960s.
The entire room was filled from floor to ceiling with computers—each machine much larger than the regular black server boxes that filled those mysterious top secret government buildings in Hollywood movies.
A few minutes ago, this room had been a beautifully furnished high-tech–meets–steampunk James Bond–villain library, and now it was nothing more than some kind of generic server farm.
As I stood there staring at wall after wall of black computers where bookshelves had been just minutes earlier, the gray feeling hit me like a wave of cement, and I passed out.
24
YOU LOOK LIKE YOU MIGHT NEED MORE THAN A COOKIE
I woke up in the lobby of The Tower staring into the eyes of Sidney Farrow.
“Welcome back,” she said.
“Are you okay?” Chloe asked.
“I’m fine. Low blood sugar,” I lied.
“Are you sure?” Sidney asked. “You look like you might need more than a cookie.”
“No, really, I’m good,” I said, sitting up.
I took a look around. They’d laid me down on one of the wooden benches. Sidney and Chloe knelt on the floor in front of me.
“Sidney checked it out,” Chloe said. “From the sixth floor to the penthouse, there’s nothing but endless rows of stacked servers.”
“That’s a lot of computing power,” I said.
I was having a hard time focusing on Chloe’s words. I was still coming to terms with what had just happened. Did I really just meet a man named Crow? Was Emily Connors there? As I continued to gather my senses, I looked past the two reception desks, through the windows, and into the courtyard. There was a circular fountain out there that I couldn’t remember seeing earlier. Surrounding the fountain was a group of large stone birds, all staring up at the sky, wings spread, waiting to take flight. I found myself wondering what had been going on in the mind of the sculptor. Why were those birds poised to escape such a beautiful place?
“Hey,” Chloe said softly, snapping me out of my reverie. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m good,” I said.
“You don’t look so good,” Sidney said.
* * *
—
“That’s an insane amount of computing power for gaming,” Chloe said as the three of us stepped outside.
“What do you think is going on up there?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Sidney said. “Floors one through five are dedicated to Byzantine Game Engine personnel. The elevator won’t stop at any of those floors, and security says they don’t have access. There’s no way we’re getting in there.”
“Security doesn’t have access?” I asked.
Sidney shrugged. “That’s what they told me.”
“Do you know a man named Crow who works here?”
Sidney shook her head. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Do you think you could check?” I asked.
“Sure. Is that his last name? Like the bird?”
“I’m not sure.”
“I’ll look into it,” Sidney said and then glanced over at Chloe. “You should probably go home and get some rest.”
“Could you maybe call your boss and try to get access to the rest of the floors?” I asked.
“I don’t have a boss.”
“So who do you call if you need something from the top?”
“Lawyers. I’m going to put in a formal request to stop my creative team from delivering assets until I see what the hell they’re doing with the Byzantine
Game Engine.”
“Do you think that’s going to work?” Chloe asked.
Sidney shrugged. “I have no idea, but it’s worth a shot. I don’t want anybody else having seizures, dying, or passing out.” She turned back to me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nodded.
* * *
—
In the Uber on our way back to my place, I stared at a series of stuffed animals glued to the dashboard of the older model Prius. I was trying to ascertain the species of each of the animals while simultaneously trying to work out a way to tell Chloe what had happened with Crow. But how was I supposed to talk about what had happened without including the part about my returning to that penthouse to discover everything had miraculously changed? And of course, I’d also have to include the fact that my close childhood friend Emily Connors had shown up for some reason.
I was tired. My head was filled with static and fuzz, and sitting there, in the back of a car with Chloe, I was starting to question whether or not I believed any of that stuff had actually happened. The stuffed animals were some kind of generic Pokémonlike creatures. I couldn’t decide if they were mice or rabbits. The one in the middle had big green eyes and long reddish ears and had come partly unglued from the dashboard. It appeared slightly off-balance, and every time we went over a bump, it shook and swayed like a haunted bobblehead.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Chloe asked. She could tell something was bothering me.
“You were there,” I said. “I just kind of passed out.”
Chloe grabbed my hand and squeezed.
“Can you believe all of those servers?” I asked, changing the subject.
“I know,” Chloe said, shaking her head. “Whatever they’re doing up there, they’re doing it with a shit ton of computer power.”
* * *
—
The car dropped us off at my place, and I took a long shower.