Countdown (21 page)

THE SUB-BASEMENT LOOKED A GREAT DEAL LIKE the other levels of this building. All white. All bland and clinical with that antiseptic smell permeating the air like a super
clean perfume.
Only down here, every other ceiling light was out or f lickering, casting spooky shadows on the hallway. It felt like a horror movie, as if somebody might reach out at any moment and
grab our ankles and pull us into another room and devour us. “Maybe they changed it,” Rogan said. “The room. Maybe
it doesn’t have my father’s name on it anymore.”
I scanned the hallway. “Maybe. Or maybe Joe was lying.
He could have made the whole thing up.”
“Yeah, and maybe that disc only has pictures of his last vacation on it.”
I didn’t like this game of “maybe” we were playing. I gave
Rogan a sharp look.
He glanced at me. “I guess we should be positive.” “Screw positive. I just want to find the room.” “We don’t have much time. They’ll shut this place down, lock all the exits to find us. Maybe we should try to leave now,
while we still have half a chance.”
“After we went to all this trouble to get in here? Why would
we want to miss out on the fun? How much time do we have
before they find us?”
“Why?”
“I feel a sense of loss if I’m not working against a countdown. Sue me.”
He snorted. “In that case, I figure we have a few minutes
max before they lock the place down. Sweeping the levels
with full security…maybe another half an hour.”
I felt a very small sense of relief. Microscopically small.
“Thirty-five whole minutes. Talk about luxury.” “Well, that’s if we hadn’t left two bodies marking the staircase leading downstairs. That will quarter our time.” My heart sank. “Damn.”
“Yeah.”
I scanned every door we came to. Just as I was about to
give up hope and take Rogan up on his offer to get the hell
out of Dodge, my eyes widened.
“Look.” I pointed at the last door that had a small brass
plaque affixed to it—so small it was barely noticeable in the
flickering light.
G. ELLIS.
My hands trembled as I slid Oliver’s access card through
the lock. The lights f lickered red.
No entry.
I swore under my breath. “It’s not working.”
“Try it again.” Rogan’s voice was strained as he scanned
the hallway. “And hurry.”
I tried it again. Still no luck.
I let out a snarl of frustration as I slid it through for a third
time. Then as the red light f lickered I came to the sudden realization that I was sliding it the wrong way around. The metallic strip had to be down.
Mentally kicking myself, I f lipped the card and tried it the
other way around.
The light f lickered green and I heard a click.
Rogan pushed the door open. It was pitch-dark inside,
which immediately ratcheted my anxiety up another notch. I
fumbled at the wall until I found the light pad, and I tapped
it. The lighting f lickered on, and I blinked as I gazed around
at the room.
It didn’t look anything like I thought it would. I would
have expected a f lank of computers, or at the very least, one
big one in the middle of the room. A desk. Maybe a potted
plant. Joe had said that this was Gareth’s secondary office. Instead, it looked more like a lounge. A large black leather
couch was in the middle of the room with Japanese-inspired
folding screens on either side. There was an unusually large
amount of religious-themed artwork—paintings, sculptures
and other fine art pieces representing all forms of religions,
from an ornate and bejeweled rosary pinned to the wall to a
large, golden laughing Buddha on a tabletop.
A large display screen on the wall across from the couch displayed images of the outdoors. It looked similar to the one in
the reward room. Fakeness trying to appear real—and nearly
succeeding. Behind me came a bubbling sound, and I turned
to see an elaborate water garden next to a Zen sand garden. I eyed Rogan, and he noted my confusion.
“I totally agree,” he said. “I wouldn’t have guessed that a
talking binary code needed a place to chill out, either.” “Joe said this is where the server was, right?”
“Maybe he lied to us. Or maybe it’s been changed since
then. I don’t see any server in here.” The bluntness of his words
didn’t cover his disappointment. “Damn it, why didn’t Jonathan tell us more about
his
plan to stop my father?” “Probably because he didn’t think he’d need to.” I touched
Rogan’s arm. “What do we do? Where’s the server?” He shook his head and moved his gun back and forth between his hands. “I don’t know.”
We had to pick our battles. This one seemed dead on arrival. The conf lict between fight and f light rushed through
me again. I’d had enough fighting. Perhaps it was time to run.
“Maybe there’s still time for us to escape. You know, live to
fight another day.”
Then, to destroy the Zen-like calm of the room, the earsplitting sound of an alarm filled the air.
“Or not!” I yelled.
I covered my ears and tried to concentrate. The view screen
showed a swaying palm tree on a beach in front of a shimmering ocean. The sound of the waves lapping at the shore could
barely be heard under the din of the alarm.
Fake. Just like Rogan’s father was now. He was a lot like
that palm tree, actually. He looked so natural, but underneath
it all he was just another computer program.
I frowned.
Just a computer program.
“The view screen.” I pointed at it. “Do you think it might
be the server? Maybe it’s camouf laged to fool anybody who
might want to destroy it. Like, say,
us.
”
Rogan’s brow furrowed. “One way to find out. Give me
the disc.”
I reached into my bra to pull out the small computer disc.
He took it from me, our fingers brushing against each other. “Let’s hope this works,” he said grimly.
But before he could move toward the display screen to insert it, a door to our left slid open and Gareth walked into the
room. He was alone.
My stomach dropped.
Rogan held his gun up in the direction of Gareth’s head.
Neither of us said a word.
“Well, that’s rude,” Gareth said, shaking his head. “Honestly, kids. You don’t even want to apologize to me for ruining my plans yet again?” His eyes narrowed, and he glanced
at the disc in Rogan’s left hand. “Why are you in this room?” “I heard this is where the waterfall was,” Rogan said evenly.
“I like waterfalls. They relax me.”
Gareth smiled thinly. “Do you know how I found you so
easily?”
“Security cameras,” I said, my stomach churning. He shook his head. “My former employee Oliver was able
to temporarily disable all of them when he helped you escape.
Like I said, he’s a very talented kid. Or rather, he
was
a very
talented kid.”
Fury rose inside me at Oliver’s fate. I clenched my fists so
tight at my sides it hurt.
“No,” Gareth continued and withdrew a handheld device
with a touch screen just like Jonathan had previously used,
“not security cameras. It’s your implant, Rogan. The one I
had Oliver reactivate. I simply traced its signal.”
“I’m going to kill you,” Rogan growled.
“No, you won’t.”
“Why? Because you’re using my father’s body?” “No. Because of that implant in your head.” He pressed
something on the device.
Rogan dropped the gun and the disc and clutched his head,
his face contorting in agony.
“Rogan!” I yelped.
“I can’t move,” he said after a moment when his arms
dropped down to his sides. “It’s like someone is holding me
in place.”
Gareth sighed heavily. “Move away from him now, Kira.” When I didn’t, he pushed another button, and Rogan roared
in pain.
“Fine.” I took a few steps away from him. “Now stop hurting him!”
He shook his head. “Kira, I was going to be kind before
and allow you to die peacefully, but now I’m not so sure
about that.”
At that moment I wished I could have kept my expression
blank, emotionless, and not give Gareth more fuel for the
fire. But I couldn’t help it. Everything I was thinking must
have been etched into my expression as my gaze f licked back
to Rogan.
Gareth walked toward Rogan and snatched up the small disc
he’d dropped. He slid it into the inner pocket of his jacket. My
heart sank. That was our one chance to end this. To survive
this. Our one chance to win this hellish game.
All along, the alarm hadn’t stopped blaring, and he had to
shout to be heard over it.
“That racket,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Honestly.” He
pulled a phone from his pocket, pressed a button on it, and
held it to his ear. “Turn that off,” he said simply, and ended
the call without another word.
The noise ceased a moment later.
“I need to know something,” I began. Maybe if I got him
talking, it might give me enough time to figure out what to
do next. “What’s with all the religious stuff in here?” He gazed around the room slowly. “I’ve been studying humankind in an attempt to understand them. So many faiths in
this world, and so many problems that difference has caused
across the centuries and millennia. I plan to take the best of
each one and form a single perfect religion in the future. Do
you believe, Kira?”
“Do I believe?”
“In a greater power?”
I glanced at Rogan. His expression was strained as if the
pain hadn’t stopped yet. “I…I don’t know.”
“You should, with the gift you’ve been given.” Gareth
folded his hands behind his back and walked a slow circle
around me.
I stood as still as one of his expensive statues and felt his
appraisal like cold, clammy hands on my skin. He stepped in
close enough to f lick my dark hair off my shoulder. Casually,
he put his fingers against my throat. It seemed as if he was
searching for a pulse.
“Humans are essentially a weak species who are too concerned with destroying their world and each other to appreciate all that has been given to them by a greater power.” I frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“There is a wonder in being human,” he breathed. “Organic
matter that thinks and breathes and reproduces. And these organic creatures in turn created computers to help them. Now
the cycle shall fold back upon itself and the computers will use the organics to help them. But the psychic element…this is a
fascinating wild card thrown into the mix, isn’t it?” “Get your hands off her.” Rogan’s voice was still strong,
but there was a hard edge of pain to it now.
“I could crush her throat so easily.” His fingers slid against
my skin. “But it’s such a waste if her death can’t be shown on
Countdown
. You will die on camera, my dear girl, I can promise you that. But not just yet.”
“What do you want from me?” I managed, sickened by his
touch but too afraid to pull away.
“I want you to use your ability on me again.” He grabbed
my hand and brought it up to his face. “I dismissed it before,
but now I’m wondering if you might be more powerful than I
originally thought. Read me. I want to know for certain that
I have a soul. That I am truly the first of an evolved species.” “Tainted artificial intelligence programming doesn’t have
a soul,” Rogan snapped. “You’re just a computer virus with
a stolen heartbeat.”
Gareth whirled around to face him. “No, I’m much more
than that—and soon, everyone will know it.”
“Dad!” Rogan yelled, his face and neck showing the strain
of trying to move when his body wouldn’t let him. “If you’re
in there somewhere, you have to fight. You have to help us!” “Your father is gone forever, boy,” Gareth snarled. “Think
of me as the improved model.” He turned back to me. “Will
you read me?”
I raised my chin as much as I could. “Why would I give
you anything you want? You just said you’re going to kill me
anyway.”
His jaw tensed, and he pressed a button on his touch screen. Rogan roared in pain.
“This will kill him if I continue,” he said. “
You
will kill
him.”
All of the fight went out of me. I couldn’t watch somebody I cared about be tortured and not do anything to stop
it. I wasn’t that strong. “Please…don’t—”
“Don’t?” He didn’t let go of that button.
“Fine! I’ll read you.”
He finally let go of the button, and Rogan went silent, his
shoulders slumping.
Gareth grabbed my hand and put it to the side of his face
again. “I’m waiting. Tell me what you feel.”
I glanced at Rogan, recovering from the torture of his implant. And then I looked into this monster’s eyes—the very
same blue-green as Rogan’s. There was no doubting the family resemblance. In thirty years, this was probably how Rogan
would look—just like this handsome, powerful man in his
perfect business suit.
But first he’d need to live that long. And I was going to do
everything in my power—such as it was—to help make that
happen. So Rogan could choose exactly what kind of a man
he became in the future.
We weren’t dead yet.
I closed my eyes, tried to concentrate, and sank into his
mind.
It didn’t take long before the pain began to seep into my
brain. “I see nothing. I’m getting nothing.”
“Keep trying.”
I gritted my teeth and waded farther into his mind, but it
was the same as before. “It’s like a universe of darkness. So
cold and empty and—”
But suddenly there it was—that oasis of emotion in a bar
ren, dry desert.
Fear and pain and sadness washed over me. I recognized
these sensations from before. It was as if everybody had an
individual emotional fingerprint. The same emotions would
feel different from someone else’s viewpoint. I’d read four
people now, and each had been so different I was certain I’d
be able to tell who it was just from the emotions, even with
my eyes shut.
These emotions belonged to Gareth Ellis. The real one. Then I heard something so quiet that it was like a radio
turned on in another room. I strained to make out the thoughts
buried deep inside the darkness.
Kill me, kill this body while there’s still time…you must do it.
There’s no other choice. Take care of my son. Don’t let this happen
to him. I love him.
The pain finally forced me to open my eyes and stagger
back.
Gareth studied my face, his gaze searching. “You saw something. What is it? Did you see my soul? What did it look like?
Was it beautiful?”
Oh, I’d seen something, all right. But it wasn’t what he
wanted to hear. “It was very faint for a while, but there was
something—”
“What? What was it?” His words held naked eagerness. “Your soul was like a bright light in the middle of the darkness. It was very beautiful.”