Luca (17 page)

Much like Fukushima itself.

It was no longer a priority. Nobody cared any longer about what happened in that forsaken corner of the planet.

And that made Fukushima the ideal place to build his bunkers. Mercer bought a large tract from the government for a hundredth of the land’s original value.

Project LUCA was born.

Mercer never told Qaara that he had others doing research on the killer molecule. He never told her a lot of things.

Experiments with the killer molecule confirmed the good news. It breaks down all forms of matter, including radioactive and toxic industrial waste.

It will cleanse the land of Fukushima, restoring it to its former pristine condition, leaving behind the perfect launch pad for a new civilization.

Relaxing back into the sofa, Mercer stretches out his legs. It’s not easy being humble when you’ve thought of everything.

Mercer’s new world will have all the advantages of the old and none of its problems. Technology and culture will be preserved in the memory cubes he’s amassed. Holo machines, laboratories, bluescreens and a local version of the Mesh are already waiting in the bunkers. Centuries-old rivalries will be swept aside as billions die in the coming devastation. War and fighting will cease. No need for religion. No need for government or laws. Competition for resources will cease. Only the best of Homo sapiens will be given shelter in his bunkers to weather the storm, all selected in advance by Mercer, all of them products of genetic modification.

All imperfection will be cleansed from the Earth.

Mercer had hoped to share his work with Qaara. With her intellect, she, of all people, should understand and appreciate all that Mercer has done to save humankind and catapult it forward along a new evolutionary path.

But, inexplicably, she rejects it all.

Taking another sip of the blue liquid, he relaxes deeper into the sofa, eyes on the holo.

Watching her die will be the perfect way to launch the new era.

22

SMOOTH TUBE

To the Wall?

The more Jedd runs, the more he thinks about where they’re going. He can’t shake a nagging thought: Is Qaara leading him to certain death?

“Why are we going to the Wall? Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Jedd takes great pains to say it in a friendly tone of voice. "Mercer is here in the City. He wants me dead. Maybe you, too. Shouldn’t we be running in the
opposite
direction? Away from the City?”

Darting across a narrow street, Qaara shakes her head. “It’s our only chance.” She twists, points the pulse rifle and shoots out another camera above their head.

Maybe she’s crazy.

With his strength mostly recovered, Jedd pulls Qaara to a sudden stop. “Look, I don’t have any genmods, and I wouldn’t presume to be half as smart as you, but I’ve been in a few fights in my life, and experience tells me that it’s
never
a good idea to have your back against the wall, especially not the
Wall
.”

“Like I said, it’s our only chance.” Qaara glances past Jedd’s biceps up into his eyes. “We have to be at the heart of the City. That’s where we’ll attract the most attention.”

“Attract attention?” Jedd must have missed an important part of her plan. “Right now we don’t want to attract anyone’s attention, especially not Mercer’s. What we want is simple. Escape with our lives. Disappear. Hide out. Get away.”

“Not yet. Maybe never.”

“Huh? Isn’t that the point?”

Shaking her head, Qaara puts her hands on Jedd’s chest and pushes him hard against the glowing glass exterior of a building. She fixes her stare on him.

“I don’t know you, and you don’t know me, but I had a feeling you were different.”

“I am different, but—”

“You heard everything Mercer said to me, right?”

“Yeah—”

“Then why don’t you understand? There’s
nowhere to run
." Qaara takes a step back, and her arms go wide. “In a few days, the Earth enters the Cloud. All life will be destroyed, including you and me. All we can do now is tell the world. That’s our first and only priority. People deserve to know.”

Jedd grabs the pulse rifle from Qaara’s hand. “I grew up in the Dead Zone. Lost my parents when I was just a kid. Got taken in by a gang of lawless thugs. Had to fend for myself. And what I learned is simple. How to survive.” He takes a step back in the direction they came from. “And the first rule of survival is pretty simple, too. Stay alive. We’re not going to be of any use to anyone if we’re dead. And that’s exactly what we will be if we don’t hide. Dead in a few minutes. Mercer’s tracking us. I’ve heard how he deals with people he doesn’t like. First, we save ourselves. Then, if we’re still alive, we can talk about telling the world.”

“But what about all the people?” Qaara raises her hands to the high-rise buildings that line both sides of the street. “You're just going to let them all die?”

“You want to know the truth?” Jedd takes another step away from Qaara. “I don’t care about them. They never did me any favors. Why should I—”

“OK, just stop there. I get it. Typical guy. Only interested in saving his own butt.”

“And yours.” Jedd reaches out to grab her arm, but she pulls away. “Now let’s stop arguing and get out of here before it’s too late.”

“It’s already too late.” Qaara starts walking away. “Mercer's watching us right now. Probably from multiple angles. The City is covered with cameras. That’s why I’ve been shooting them. To get his attention. I want him to find us. I’d say we only have a few minutes until the execution squad comes after us. Before we die,
before I die
, I have to warn the world. At this point, it’s the only thing that will give my life meaning. Feel free to run away and save your own butt, but leave mine alone."

She runs to the Wall, now in view at the far end of the street, leaving Jedd standing with the pulse rifle dangling from his fingers.

He watches her run away.

Qaara Kapoor. The woman with brains, beauty, money, fame, everything one could desire, now on the cusp of throwing it all away.

Time for a reality check.

He’s head over heels in love with her, just like everyone else. But his old survival instincts kick in. If she’s so intent on committing suicide, she’ll have to do it alone.

He spits at the pavement, thinking of how perfect it all could have been.

Turning away, Jedd jogs back toward the nearest Tube entrance. A plan is already forming in his head. He’ll head south, maybe to Florida. Try to forget about Qaara. Keep a low profile. Completely off-grid. Only travel at night. No jax or slate.

He catches the sound of a car at the far end of the street, going in the opposite direction he’s running. Slipping into a side alley, he presses his back against a glass façade and peers sideways as the black car shoots by, running silent with no motor tone.

Its markings are clear. Dark windows. Lavish fringes of tiny silver bells run along its sides, garnished with bright red feathers. The horns of a large animal are mounted on the back. The doors have no outside handles.

Peruvian Mafia.

They operate big in the Fringe. Nasty fellows. Ruthless to the bone. No respect for life. Better at efficient murder than anyone else, even the Yakuza from Japan.

They’ve come here in the early dawn hours, broadcasting their presence. And they’re heading straight for Qaara.

Instantly, it all becomes clear.

Mercer isn’t going to give Qaara the chance to stand at the wall and make an announcement to the world before he cuts her down. He’s going to silence her right now and blame her death on rogue elements from the Fringe. No one will question it. And then there'll be a big funeral. Qaara’s parents will be there. Mercer will probably speak.

Just before the Cloud swallows the Earth.

Everyone will be focused on the death of the inventor of Graff, too busy to care about anything else.

Rage ripples through Jedd’s chest.

As he stares at the passing car, his sense of self-preservation fades to a thin strand and then snaps.

He turns and starts sprinting back to Qaara.

The car draws closer to her. Three men wearing light armor jump out. Qaara slips into a side street and disappears from view. The men follow her.

The car moves on, closer to the Wall. Shots from a pulse pistol ring out.

Jedd pushes himself to run faster. He reaches the side street where the men pursued Qaara, expecting to see them standing over her dead body.

But no one is there. Jedd hears more shots a couple of blocks away. They must still be chasing her. The Peruvian Mafia could have easily hit her by now. They aren’t trying to kill her, not yet.

They’re herding her toward the Wall. Into a trap.

Heart bursting, Jedd sprints on the shortest path.

When he gets to the last building on the street, he stops, body flat against the glass exterior, head slowly moving to peek around the corner.

There they are, twenty meters away.

Three men and the car. Qaara literally has her back to the Wall, hands above her head.

Jedd glances across the wide street that runs at the base of the Wall. Its elegant construction almost takes his breath away.

Clear as crystal, it’s as if he’s standing on the ocean floor gazing into its depths.

The men have their guns out, trained on Qaara. Their black facial tattoos are visible. She brings her hands down to rest on her hips. One of the men steps forward and places the tip of his pistol against Qaara’s forehead. He tells her to kneel.

She kicks him hard in the groin.

As the man doubles over in pain, one of the other men slams the side of his gun into her forehead. Jedd can see the blood from here. The third man takes careful aim. He’s ready to touch off a round and end Qaara’s life at point-blank range.

It’s as if the men are aware of the hidden cameras filming the action from every angle. They’re setting a scene for a dramatic execution. The whole world will be able to see how Qaara Kapoor died.

No. Not yet.

Jedd swallows. Instinct takes over. Maybe he can appeal to their greed.

“Hey!” he shouts. “Over here.” Jumping into the street, he pulls out his jax. “Don’t mess with her. This is what you want. Loaded with IMUs. You can buy anything you want. It’s yours if you give me the girl." He walks forward, heart beating, holding up the jax in his left hand and the pulse rifle in his right.

The three men smile.

“Was wondering where you were.” The one on the ground slowly stands up. “Get over here before we kill her.”

Jedd approaches, walking toward the car, trying to come up with a plan in the next twenty steps. His mind is a vortex of random thoughts. He waves his rifle in the general direction of the men.

“Do we have a deal or not?”

“Not.” The voice comes from behind Jedd. A fourth man Jedd didn’t see. “Now lower your gun and join the girl. Maybe we’ll decide to let her live.” The man comes closer and yanks the pulse rifle out of Jedd’s hand. "Maybe not.”

Two of the other men rush forward, grab Jedd and thrust him against the Wall next to Qaara.

“Do you know who this is?” Jedd stares at the men with their guns trained on him. “Qaara Kapoor.” He taps the Wall behind him. “She
invented
this stuff.”

“And now she’s going to die.” The fourth man speaks as he walks closer with his gun trained on Jedd. “Along with you.”

“Before you kill me.” Qaara’s moves closer to Jedd. “Before you kill
us
, there’s something you need to know. You’ve heard about the gas cloud from deep space closing in on the Earth. It’s full of poison, and it’s going to destroy us all.” Qaara looks up at the buildings that line the road opposite the Wall and points to the sky. “Unless we figure out how to stop it. In four days.”

One of the men brings a finger to a blue dot in his ear, as if listening to some inner dialog. He turns to Qaara. “Stop talking.”

She raises both arms high above her head. “Frank Mercer is waiting for all of you to die.”

All four of the men walk squarely in front with their guns pointed, two at Jedd’s forehead and two at Qaara’s.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jedd notices that Qaara is holding a jax in one of her raised hands. It’s flashing green, the tip pressed to the Wall above her. “I’ve said what I needed to say.” Her eyes pan across the buildings across the street. “Now you can shoot.”

One of Qaara’s hands floats down near Jedd’s neck.

“Now just a minute.” Jedd smiles at the men with guns trained on his head. “Let’s be reasonable. We must have something you wa—”

A faint vibration starts above Jedd’s head. For an instant, the men look up at the jax in Qaara’s hand.

And then she drops to the ground, pulling down on Jedd’s shirt, taking him with her. In a blur, a loud POP erupts from the Wall and a column of water explodes out of its smooth surface. As Jedd stares, it knocks all four of the Peruvian Mafia off their feet and forces them across the street, slamming them into the side of the high-rise apartment building on the other side.

Their bodies slide away in the flood.

Jedd looks up just inches above his head to see the horizontal column of water. No bubbles. No foam. No imperfections of any kind. Just a smooth tube of pure water shooting out.

“How did you do that?” he says.

“I’ll explain later.” Qaara rolls to the side. “Into the car. Let's go.”

They run to the mafia car, still parked with its door open, climb in and drive away.

23

FIREBALLS

“It’s not over. The rest will arrive any minute,” Jedd says.

Qaara sinks into the leather seat. “The rest?”

“I know Peruvian Mafia. I’ve seen how they rule their quadrant of the Fringe.” Jedd slams his hand on the red button on the car-com, putting it into full manual mode and turning the wheel as the car screeches around a corner. “Most reliable thugs on the street. They always send backup to make sure the job gets done.”

“How do you know?”