Final Battle (21 page)

Instead—for no reason anyone in science can explain— for every 10 billion bits of antimatter, 10 billion and one bits of matter were created. The stuff left over—one bit for every 10 billion—was enough to make everything in the universe.

One mathematician figured out the chances that the universe would grow in such a way to support life. It was less than one in 10123. That's a 10 followed by 123 zeros.

Somehow, against the odds of 1/10 123, the universe grew in such a way to make life possible on Earth.

Is it so crazy for anyone to wonder if God was behind all of this?

It was now 5:30 in the afternoon. I had fought a headache for 10 minutes, grateful it wasn't so bad that I had to scream. That would have ruined my cover in a fairly small dome for sure.

When it passed, something strange caught my eye. A man was at the far wall of the dome. Away from the main traffic area. He was struggling to roll a huge cylindrical tank off a wagon.

It was dim there, and I could only see an outline of a figure.

Luke Daab! It had to be! The figure was skinny and short, just like him. And Luke had this weird hunched over way of walking, just like this guy.

But even more, I could see no reason for the tank to be placed there.

As I watched, the man took off with the wagon. A minute later he returned with another equally large tank. He looked around in all directions, as if making sure he was unseen. He rolled off the second tank, then hurried away.

Explosives? Getting them ready to detonate when the Manchurian fleet arrived? After all, if everyone in here were dead, the Manchurian soldiers wouldn't have to fight anyone.

I brought my wrist buzzer to my mouth as the small figure returned with a third container. “Ashley!” I hissed.

Seconds later, she replied, “Tyce!”

“Get Rawling,” I said. I hadn't moved the binoculars from my eyes. The man was returning with a fourth tank. “Quick! Get Rawling or Dad and anyone else who can help on short notice and go to the south end of the dome. Grab the guy who's unloading some big cylinders. I haven't seen anything like them under the dome before. They could be explosives!”

CHAPTER 17

“Compressed oxygen,” Rawling said an hour later.

I was back in my wheelchair, back in his office. It was 6:30—almost time for dinner. Ashley had helped me down from the upper deck, then gone to get something to eat.

Rawling waved some papers. “Here's the work order from the chief engineer. They're going to run some ventilation pipes around the inner wall of the dome. Then they're going to hook up those oxygen tanks to the pipes. Now that we've increased the dome's population, it's a backup system for the emergency oxygen tubes. If there's any threat to the dome's atmosphere, those big tanks of compressed oxygen will automatically release.”

“Chief engineer's idea?”

“Straight from Earth.” Rawling grimaced. “
Before
the communications virus. All of the equipment was on one of the unmanned spaceships.”

“What did he say about the guy unloading it?” I asked.

“He asked one of the techies to do it. I checked. You really think Luke is back?” he asked with raised eyebrows. Then he continued, “The techie
is
about the same size as Luke.”

Rawling, too, knew what Luke Daab looked like. Daab had been a maintenance techie on Mars since the beginning of the Mars Project. Invisible as he worked, his job gave him access to absolutely everything under the dome.

“Someone came in on that two-person shuttle. It wouldn't surprise me if …” I stopped. “If that shuttle had been attached to one of the unmanned spaceships. It could happen, right? That near the Moon as the fleet is assembled, a Manchurian ship delivers Luke and the two-person shuttle to one of our unmanned ships. And they hitchhike across the solar system.”

“The Manchurians do have the resources and technology to do that,” Rawling said. Still, there was doubt in his voice. “But even if Luke got inside the unmanned ship—”

“That part would be easy. A hatch. He'd—”

“He'd still need oxygen and supplies for all those months of travel.”

“Unloaded from the same Manchurian ship that brought him there.”

“Maybe,” Rawling said. “I'll send someone up in our own shuttle to take a close look at the unmanned vehicles in orbit. In the meantime, I'm thinking of stopping all work, assembling everybody in one area of the dome, and doing a thorough search for whoever it is who sneaked in.”

“It would be to our advantage,” I argued, “if that person didn't know we knew about him. I can spend more time in the observatory looking for him, right? We've still got at least two months before the Manchurian fleet gets here.”

“That dummy up there at the telescope does look pretty convincing from down below.” Rawling grinned. “Much as we miss your help with the carbon-dioxide generators, maybe I can afford to give you a little more time. But try not to get too excited tonight when you see techies sealing off the temporary dome for the other kids.”

“Sealing?”

“Part of that emergency backup plan. The World United Federation has literally invested billions in robot control. The future of Mars colonization depends on those 50 kids. So their sleeping area is being sealed. If anything happens to the pressure or oxygen level of the dome, at least they'll be safe until the problem is fixed.”

“The adults can die first, huh,” I said, making a bad joke.

“Let's face it,” Rawling said. “Everything now depends on those who can control robots. Which includes you. So if you happen to see Luke Daab, don't go running after him. Got it?”

“That would be great, though,” I said. “Being able to run. And finally stopping Luke Daab.”

Rawling groaned. “I never should have put that idea in your head. Get some sleep tonight. And go back up to the telescope tomorrow.”

“First I'm going to the exercise room,” I told Rawling. “You have no idea how badly I want to get these legs ready to walk.”

Rawling smiled. “Maybe not. But I can guess. Go exercise. Then sleep. It will help your body.”

Sleep. That would be good. But I knew I wouldn't sleep much. The headaches would hit me like clockwork, just like every night since leaving Earth.

And the next one, I guessed, would be on me in about two hours.

CHAPTER 18

From Rawling's office, I wheeled toward the exercise area to spend time with the weights. Even in the reduced gravity of Mars, Rawling had said I'd only be able to move five-pound weights a total of one inch with the leg machine.

But for me, that was incredible.

My legs were responding to my brain's commands. In that aspect, the operation had been successful. Now I needed to add muscle to legs that had never had muscle before. And then—I finally dared hope for it—I could teach those legs to walk.

If it weren't for my killer headaches and the approach of the Manchurian fleet, I would have been bouncing around for joy 24 hours a day.

For now, I was only going to approach everything one day at a time, knowing the Manchurians wouldn't be here for a while. And that included my weight program.

Just as I rounded the corner to the exercise area, someone in a regular jumpsuit uniform stepped out. I barely glimpsed his face as he walked away and told myself it was just my imagination.

That was not Luke Daab. As if I were going to go running to Rawling again. But maybe someone in the exercise area could tell me who it was.

Except it was empty when I rolled into it.

I headed straight to the leg machine. On it was taped an envelope with my name. I opened it, puzzled.

In the next minute?

Someone was controlling my headaches?

Then I realized something. The man who had just stepped out of the exercise area had been in a standard blue jumpsuit. Not exercise gear. Why else had he been here, except to leave this note? But how had he known I would be coming here right now?

And how was he controlling the head—

I heard a scream. Dimly knew it was mine. I fell out of my wheelchair, flailing my arms at the pain. This headache was much worse than anything I'd felt before.

Even death would be better than this agony, a part of my mind thought.

The pain continued and continued until it hurt so bad I couldn't even scream.

I waited for a blackout to give me mercy, but it didn't come.

And finally, when the headache stopped pinching my brain, I gasped for breath. My body was shaking and sweating.

I had to find that person. If only to beg him never to do that to me again.

CHAPTER 19

“Tyce?”

The voice came from outside the doorway of my bedroom. I was just about to roll out of my wheelchair and get into bed. After that headache attack, there was no way I could exercise. Half an hour had passed before I could even get back to our minidome. I was still trembling, and I'd thrown up twice from the aftereffects of the pain.

It was now 8:30 p.m. Mom and Dad had been so concerned about me that they'd gone to get Rawling.

“Yes, Rawling,” I said. My voice was a croak. “Come in.”

He did, carrying the lead-wrapped belt that he'd used to shield me during the X-ray process.

“Great,” I groaned. “More medical work. Got some needles for painkillers? Those pills you gave me haven't done a thing.”

“I think I know why.”

I glanced at my watch. “Speak quickly. If it follows the schedule, the next headache is due in less than a minute.”

That was the worst of it. Knowing and anticipating when the headaches would arrive. Like getting up in the morning and knowing you had a dentist appointment. Except this was like three or four dentist appointments a day. Without the freezing.

“I thought it was strange that there were no medical notes about the implant in your spine,” Rawling said.

“So I went to your father this afternoon just before he took the shuttle up. The communications link between Mars and Earth might be down, but he still has his Terrataker database.”

I knew exactly what Rawling meant. I'd been surprised to find out on Earth that my dad had been working against the Terratakers for years. He and Rawling were special agents who'd trained together in New York, even before the Mars Project was launched. And Dad had a list of every person with a known or suspected link to the Terratakers.

“Sure enough,” Rawling said. “Far, far down the list, I spotted the name of one of the doctors on your medical team. His background shows him listed as a potential supporter of the Terratakers.”

“But why would a Terrataker be allowed to—?”

“The Terratakers have plenty of spies and connections in the World United Federation. I imagine that someone somewhere pulled a string.”

“Rawling, the operation was successful.”

“More successful than you think. I scanned your spinal X-ray into the computer and zoomed in. That implant—”

I interrupted him with a low scream. The headache had arrived. I clenched my teeth against the pain and made no more noise.

“Tyce! Is it always this bad?”

I groaned.

“You should have told someone earlier.”

I groaned again.

Rawling rushed forward with the lead belt. He wrapped it around my belly, then slid it down so that it rested on my hips.

And the pain stopped!

“That better?” Rawling asked.

I found myself panting with relief.

“Thought so.”

“What is it?” I asked, amazed at the peace and calm I felt.

“The implant has tiny, tiny pincers. The nerves to your spinal column have grown in and around the pincers. I think someone is squeezing those nerves whenever they want to put you in agony. Spinal nerves are funny. Even though they're pinched in your back, the pain can be anywhere in your body.”

“And the lead belt?” I queried. “Not that I'm complaining …”

“Shields you from whatever signals that person is using to activate the implant from a remote source.”

I lifted the belt slightly. The pain returned in full force.

I lowered the belt. The pain stopped.

“Rawling.” I was still panting. “It's the kind of relief that comes when someone finally quits hitting your thumb with a hammer.”

“You'll get some sleep?”

“Yes!”

“Good. In the morning, come talk to me.”

He left. Or at least I think he did.

I was so exhausted from fighting the pain that I was asleep before he could shut the door on his way out.

CHAPTER 20

A dream woke me. When I rubbed my eyes, the thought was still there.

Hunt the hunter.

I was still half asleep.

Hunt the hunter.

Why was I having that thought? Was my subconscious trying to tell me something? I tried to recall the details of the dream… .

I was swimming in the ocean. Luke Daab cast a lure from his fishing rod. He hooked me below the spine and began to reel me in. Except in my dream I grew bigger and stronger and turned into a half shark. Instead of letting Luke Daab reel me in like a helpless fish, I turned and swam hard. He was pulled into the water, and I turned around and opened my big shark mouth and was just about to chomp on his head—

Weird dream. I remembered I had woken up just as Luke screamed. With the same scream of pain that this implant had given me time after time over the last months.

I rubbed my eyes more.

Hunt the hunter.

I thought more about the dream. I realized that Luke had used the fishing rod to reel me in, but in the end, it became the weapon used on him.