Hamish X Goes to Providence Rhode Island (26 page)

Xnasha looked into the woman's blue eyes and saw no kindness there. There was something cold and inhuman.

Yet Xnasha had no choice. She couldn't stop the others, so she had to join them and hope she could help. She followed the others up into the front door. The old woman waited until they were all inside and, with a final look up and down the street, she shut the door with finality. The lock clicked. Outside, no bird sang and no bee buzzed.

Part 3

PROVIDENCE

So, here we are, on the doorstep of the end of the story. The threads are all coming together now. Like a master weaver, I craft the fabric of this tale so that you may wear it like a fine pair of pants. I hope they are flattering on you.

The final chapters always hold a great deal of personal sadness for me. I will finish the tale. You will go back to your life of playing video games, skateboarding, plastering the underside of chairs with chewing gum, or whatever it is you fill your days with. It makes me wish I could extend the story in some way, add bits, make it longer. Perhaps I could have the characters make a side excursion to a shopping mall where they try on several different jackets.

That would not be right, however. Stories must be exactly as long as they are and no longer. Hamish X approaches the end of his story, and I must relate it exactly how it happened without any embellishment or time-wasting.

So without further ado …

I would just like to say, I think you are a very nice person… And I'm glad you are reading this book … And I enjoy pasta.

All right, I'm just prolonging things.

Here it comes: the last part of the last book of the saga of Hamish X.

Welcome to Providence.

Chapter 26

HAMISH X

Maggie and Thomas sat in small jump seats
⁸³
that folded out of the wall of the aircraft. The seats were not very comfortable, partly because they were quite small and hard and partly because the Grey Agents had tied the children in place with restraining straps. Thomas and Maggie were completely unable to move. All around them, the roar of engines was deafening.

The jump seats were located in the cabin of the ODA Space Plane
⁸⁴
that was rocketing up through the atmosphere
on its way back to Providence, Rhode Island, the home of the ODA. The cabin was sparsely appointed and small, only a few metres long and two metres high. The ceiling was a curved arch with harsh lights recessed into the panelling. There were jump seats along the walls of the cabin and port-holes along the sides. All the shades on the portholes were drawn, allowing no view of the world outside. As he sat across from Thomas and Maggie, Hamish X's head lolled forward with the tossing of the Space Plane's passage. Since Mr. Candy had snapped the white cuffs over his hand, the boy had been completely inert. He walked when prodded and complied with simple commands, but he wasn't conscious. Thomas and Maggie had shouted themselves hoarse trying to rouse him when they were first secured in their seats and left alone as Mr. Candy and Mr. Sweet went forward into the cockpit to begin takeoff. Hamish X did not respond. They finally gave up when the engines fired and they could no longer hear each other shout.

Up, up, up they rose. The pressure of the rocket boosters driving the craft pressed them back into their seats uncomfortably, the straps cutting into their flesh as the Space Plane fought its way free of gravity. The sensation became painful and finally unbearable before, suddenly, the pressure was gone. The engines cut out and the silence was profound.

“What happened?” Maggie asked Thomas.

“I dunno,” Thomas answered. His eyes went wide. “Look at your hair!”

“What about it?” Maggie asked, irritated. “This isn't the time to start making fun of my hair.”

“No, really! It's floating … like you're underwater or something.”

“What?” She couldn't see her own hair, but she looked across at Hamish X and saw that his limbs were weightless. His boots hung out in front of him as if they were suspended in water. “What's going on?”

“We have left the Earth's gravity field,” Mr. Candy said, bobbing into the cabin. “The Earth is spinning below us as we speak. Soon we will drop out of orbit.” Kicking out from the frame of the door that led to the cockpit, the Grey Agent propelled himself across the cabin. He grabbed hold of the seat that held Hamish X and pulled the boy's head back by the hair. “Oh so soon, Hamish X. Your destiny is at hand.”

“Take your hands off him, you creep,” Maggie growled, struggling against her bonds.

“Your time is coming, too, little girl. All of humanity has mere hours left. You will all be under our power when the gate opens.” With a gloved hand, Mr. Candy flipped up the shade on the closest window, revealing the blue curve of the Earth. From her geography classes, Maggie recognized the tapering triangle that was England, Scotland, and Wales smeared with cloud. It was a sight that would normally have filled her with awe. So few human beings had seen this sight, the planet made peaceful by distance. The world was an impossibility of water and earth, rock and sky, a home to her people, all people. But instead of wonder, she felt only dread. The Space Plane would soon begin its descent and
all of that beauty would end. She was powerless to do anything about it.

“Wake up, Hamish X! Wake up!” she shouted. “You've got to wake up.”

But Hamish X dreamed on.

“Wake up, Hamish X! Wake up!”

Hamish X knew that voice. He opened his eyes and blinked at
the bright sunlight. He was lying in his bed in his quarters at the Hollow Mountain. Sitting up, he saw King Liam sitting in a chair beside his bed, basking in the light of the artificial sun.

“King Liam?”

“Of course.” King Liam smiled. “It's about time. You are such a
lazy creature. Get out of bed. There's a lot I have to tell you.” With that, King Liam stood up and left the room. “There's breakfast on the terrace. Come on, sleepypants!”

Hamish X watched him go, confused. “This can't be happening.” He swung his boots out of bed and found that he was fully clothed in the desert robes that Harik had given him. At the thought of the Bedouin, he felt a pang of worry. What had happened? He couldn't seem to remember. He recalled leaping from the wall at the Grey Agents, but everything else was veiled in fog. He went through the door and onto the terrace.

The terrace looked out over Frieda's Cavern. Hamish X had enjoyed the view here many times before, sitting at the small table on his terrace. The entire green expanse of the cavern spread out below, its neatly parcelled fields growing corn and wheat, vegetables and flowers. At the centre, the Stair twisted upward around the central elevator, the waterslide a plastic helix twining around the outside. The place was perfect, just as Hamish X remembered it. But something about that seemed wrong.

“Where is everybody?” he said out loud. The cavern was completely empty; in fact, the entire Hollow Mountain was silent and still, save for the distant burbling of the fountain far below. All the people and
all the raccoons were absent. The whole place had a cold and lifeless air about it.

“Dull, isn't it, with no people in it,” King Liam agreed. “I can't say I like it like this, but there you are. We didn't have the time to program in all the randomizers that would give us birdsong, computer-generated inhabitants, and what have you. It's just you and me.”

Hamish X wrested his attention from the commanding view and turned to find the King of Switzerland sitting at a small round table set for breakfast. There was a plate of sticky pastries with jam and toast. A bowl of berries, perfect and succulent, glistened in the light of the artificial solar generators overhead. Hamish X's stomach rumbled.

“This is a dream,” Hamish X said, sitting down in an elegant wrought-iron chair opposite the King. “This isn't real.”

“True,” the King agreed. “Like the Memory Party, this is a simulation. I need to talk to you. We're inside your head. I do appreciate your letting me in for this little chat.” King Liam stretched his hands over his head and wiggled his fingers. “What a joy to be able to do such a simple thing without any pain at all. Delightful!”

“Weird.”

“Decidedly. It must be very weird for you, but don't worry, it's
ultimately for your benefit.”

“Wait,” Hamish X said suddenly. He stopped, paralyzed by a thought.

“What is it? What's the matter?” The King's face was full of concern.

“I
…
I don't know how to tell you this, but
…
you're dead.”

“Am I?”

“In the real world, I mean. Outside my head. The George
raccoon told me that the Grey Agents had destroyed the Hollow Mountain, filled it with lava, and you were
…
killed in the battle.”

The King frowned. “Oh dear. What a shame. I quite liked myself.” He shrugged and picked up a croissant and began heaping jam onto it. “Eat up! It may only be digital, but it's delicious!” He took a big bite and chewed happily.

“The George raccoon bit me,” Hamish X said, picking up a juicy raspberry and popping it into his mouth. The explosion of flavour was intoxicating. “Why did he do that?”

“It was the easiest way of injecting this program into you without arousing the suspicion of the ODA. Poor George. All his raccoons are gone. He's stuck in the Mountain, locked in a lava flow. Boring for him. Promise me that you'll get him out of there once this is all over. I'd hate to think of him lodged there for all eternity. Have a cinnamon bun.”

Hamish X picked up the spiral twist of sugary dough and took a big bite. It was as delicious as the raspberry had been, if not more. Chewing, he shook his head. “I doubt there'll be anything left. The ODA are pretty thorough about that kind of thing.”

“George's central processor is housed in a special hardened vault that seals up tight should any threat arise. I think he'll be there. Bored and cranky, certainly, but he'll be there.”

“Why are you here?” Hamish X asked, licking the sticky brown sugar from his fingers.

“Ah,” the King leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers, “it's both simple and complicated.”

“Isn't it always?”

The King laughed. “Yes. I created this program to be activated
if you were ever captured by the ODA. It would seem that that has come to pass.”

Hamish X suddenly recalled the last seconds before he woke in the recreated Hollow Mountain. “Oh, no. It's true! I've been captured. What a fool! I got angry and I've made a mess of everything.”

“Don't be too hard on yourself.” The King looked pained. “You have every right to be angry.”

“I found the Professor. He told me what my purpose is,” Hamish X said bitterly. “I'm a tool, a cog in a machine, a computer chip. The idea that I could be anything else was
…
it was stupid. I'm a tool.”

The King shook his head, pushed an unruly shock of red hair off his brow. “You are what you believe yourself to be. That is the only thing I can tell you. The Hamish X I know is smart, loyal, genuine, and kind. I've never met a wrench with those qualities.”

Hamish X stood up and went to the railing of the terrace. He looked out over the perfectly simulated landscape, his face hard. His golden eyes were angry. He felt a hand on his shoulder. The King spoke again. “Here's the other thing about tools: they can turn on their users. Hammers hit thumbs and nails equally. You have to remember that at the final moment, Hamish X.” The King turned Hamish X around to face him. “No. It's just Hamish now, isn't it? The X is a designation given to you by the ODA. You've outgrown them, Hamish. They sent you out into the world to expand your mind, to build your brain, but they didn't understand that you are more than a bunch of nerves and tissues and programs. They just can't understand that you have grown a heart as well. You are a good boy, Hamish. Did you hear me? A good boy. Now, it's time for you to wake up. You have work to do. Eat this.”