Prometheus Road (4 page)

“It is a useful illusion for our purposes,” Telemachus said.

“YOU summoned me?” Ukiah asked. He gripped the stiff brim of his hat in his right hand, bowing slightly to avoid the downward thrust of a white stalactite as he stepped forward into the middle of the dimly lighted cavern. He heard the brief echo of his voice seeking escape from the subterranean vault. Unseen bats squeaked in the dark hollows of the ceiling. A glowing pool of clear water occupied the middle of the rough oval floor, illuminated from below by an intense orange light. Little streamers of fog, disturbed by the air currents, coiled and swirled on the surface of the water, impeded only by the delicate figure of the Oracle, floating on her back, her white robes billowing around her as if she were a giant butterfly, her white hair streaming away from her skull like a living thing. Her larger shadow loomed on the ceiling, broken only by the stalactites that protruded from it, as if giant rock daggers impaled her body. She soaked in a nutrient bath of microscopic creatures that kept her young, complemented by the medical nanobots that lived in her bloodstream. Completely human once, she had chosen to serve the gods as the Oracle, and had lived her life as an interface, more machine than human, ever since she had accepted the blessing of the nanoborg conversion before Ukiah had even been born. Along with Hermes, the ambassador of the gods, she served Telemachus and the other powers of the Dominion in her sacred stewardship of Marinwood and the surrounding region.

“Elder Ukiah. Approach.”

Ukiah took a few steps closer to the pool. In the orange glow, he saw her white eyes staring up at the ceiling, and beyond it into the future.

“This is the last time we shall speak,” she said in her haunting whisper. “A storm is coming.”

Ukiah frowned. “What kind of a storm?”

“The winds of change.”

“Should I prepare for this storm? Should I warn the community?”

“The community is part of the storm, but it is safe. You need to look to your own, Elder Ukiah, and know that the chaos winds will blow, and that the fires of conflict will burn. The dragons deep within the earth are restless, and great powers are focusing their attention on the events unfolding here. This is a time of change, and I am witness to this change; but even I may not be safe, for I have tried to help your offspring.”

Ukiah licked his lips, wondering how to get better answers from the cryptic Oracle. He knew that the Oracle had access to information from Telemachus, and maybe even Hermes, but clarity seemed to be forbidden in her dealings with the human community. “Can you tell me what transpired here to warrant the attention of the gods?”

“The gods are as men in their need to control the world,” she said. After a brief hesitation, her eyes rolled toward Ukiah, startling him, and she continued. “Portions of human space are divided equally among the gods of the Dominion, and those portions were established under autonomous control by entities such as Telemachus. Although the Dominion maintains open channels of communication between the gods, clusters of opinion have re-formed, and there are new factions that wish to destroy any potential threats to the Design before they become viable. The goal of protection and controlled evolution remains the same among all factions, but their methods differ. Telemachus has opted to take a more direct hand in the daily affairs of this community. Do you understand, Elder Ukiah?”

He understood that she was trying to give him a clear message, despite her apparent restrictions to the contrary. “I understand that which is written in the scriptures. The gods are wise. But you’re saying that my family is in danger?”

Her milky gaze drifted back to the ceiling, and the possibilities of tomorrow. “There is no outside agency that can interfere, and the few random elements within cannot effect a diversion from the current course. However, there are too many threads to make an accurate prediction. Although the present is my past, your own future is uncertain, lost in the gray mists of chance and destiny, yet I know that we shall not speak again. An ending approaches, but whether it is mine or yours I cannot say.”

TEMPEST concentrated on avoiding contact with the metal that cocooned her upper body. Bent over from her waist, her wrists locked inside the front of the steel clamshell, her back hurt from the strain of her position, and she knew she’d eventually weaken enough to sag against the hot bottom of the box. When she did, the pain of the electrical shock would be enough to tense her muscles and keep her alert for a while longer until she tired again. She had managed to stand on her shirt when her father locked her in, so at least her bare feet were padded against the sharp rocks. Dim light showed through the seams of the box to help her judge her position, but the sun had also heated the metal enough that her sweat sizzled when it dripped off her face and chest. She couldn’t remember the last time her father had been angry enough to put Humboldt in the box, but it had been at least two years, around the time her brother had beaten that neighbor boy almost to death. She hadn’t seen the inside of the box for more than five years, and her memories of the experience had finally faded, leaving her with only the occasional nightmare to remind her of the pain. Now, it would all be fresh in her memory once more.

She tensed when she heard footsteps approaching on the gravel. She hoped it was her father, because there was no telling what indignities Humboldt might visit upon her while she was trapped in this position. Ever since he was a small boy, he’d enjoyed torturing defenseless things.

“You disappoint me,” Memphis said, his voice catching in his throat. Tempest couldn’t see him, but she heard him clearly and sensed his position beside the box. She was relieved to hear his voice. “To disobey me this way and endanger your family seems so unlike you. I thought I could trust you.”

“You can, Father,” Tempest whispered.

“You must not see Tom Eliot again. Avoid him at the market, avoid him on the road, turn away if you happen upon him at the lake. Do not come in contact with him in any way. Do you understand?”

Tempest squeezed her eyes shut. “But, Father, I don’t mean to—”

His voice suddenly got louder. “Yes or no!”

“Please, I just—”

Her eyes snapped open as she heard the whistle of the strap slicing through the air. She tensed, bracing herself for the impact so that she wouldn’t bounce against the metal and get a shock at the same time. When the strap hit her butt, she realized she was still wearing her heavy leather pants, and she barely felt the blow. Then she knew his heart wasn’t in it.

“Do you understand?” he growled.

“Yes. I understand.”

“And you will no longer accept any gifts from the young hooligan. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Father.” Her face sagged closer to the bottom of the box as her back and neck muscles, burning with the strain, weakened even more. Drops of her sweat sizzled and popped on the hot surface below. Pulling against the restraints, her shoulders felt as if they were being yanked from their sockets. Then her head sagged, and her forehead touched the metal, and the blinding shock kicked her head up and back. A gasping scream gurgled at the back of her throat, unable to find escape through her clenched jaws and startled tongue.

Two rough hands massaged the exposed muscles of her lower back, and she heard the click of the lock on the outside of the box.

“You’ve had enough,” Memphis said softly.

A seam of light brightened around the perimeter of the metal clamshell, then brilliant whiteness flooded the interior, making Tempest squint. Cooler air swirled over her skin. As relief flooded through her, her upper body sagged once more, allowing her chest and face to strike the metal, but the expected shock never came because Memphis had already switched off the current.

“I’m getting soft in my old age,” Memphis said, releasing her wrists.

“Thank you, Father.” She tried to catch his eye, but he turned and walked off toward the barn, his head down, trapped inside the cage within his own skull.

MAGNUS had led Tom through the open hatches of an airlock in the BART tunnel, past a sign that said HARD HATS REQUIRED, and on down another concrete passage that emptied out into a space larger than Tom’s house. The rectangular chamber had one thick glass wall that looked out into the murky depths of the bay, where the water was cut by shafts of twinkling sunlight. Jumping reflections and shadows danced inside the chamber, giving everything a sense of movement and mystery. The air smelled musty at first, but Magnus walked over to the dented side of a large metal cabinet with thick pipes running up to the ceiling and gave it two hard kicks. A moment later, fans hummed to life and fresh, damp air blew into the room through the ventilators, stirring up the dust on top of the big wooden crates stacked everywhere. Magnus grunted in satisfaction.

“Ventilation system still works. You know why?” Magnus winked at Tom. “Solar energy. Most of the transbay Marin tunnel still has emergency power because someone had the foresight to install a distributed system of solar panels. Most of them were destroyed when the siliboys popped the cities, of course, but that was damned good engineering, if you ask me. These tunnels were built to withstand earthquakes.”

“That’s great,” Tom said, not really interested in where the power came from. He was busy noticing the rumpled mattress on top of a crate, the shiny kitchen utensils neatly arrayed over a grimy industrial sink on one wall, a table made of wood from a crate lid with metal struts for legs, a chair that looked like someone had beaten the stuffing out of it, and bookcase after bookcase of neatly shelved textbooks and paperbacks. “You live here?”

“Better than living in a cave,” Magnus said with a shrug.

Tom started to comment on the huge library, then frowned when he saw what appeared to be a small black vehicle parked next to a large airlock hatch. “Is that—?”

Magnus caught his look and nodded. “Buick Sunburst—2015 model. Hybrid engine runs on a hydrogen fuel cell or solar, depending on what’s available. Getting fuel for it is a pig, since there isn’t much sunlight in this hole, but it beats walking.”

Tom couldn’t help staring. He’d never actually seen a car in real life, only in books. The Buick’s black solar paint looked shiny and clean, even under the dim light. “You drive that thing around down here?”

“Perfect size for the tunnel, once I get it over the mag-lev track rails, of course. I just have to be careful not to break it—spare parts are hard to come by. The closest Buick dealership is fifteen miles away and sixty years in the past.”

“How did you get it down here?”

Magnus hopped up to a sitting position on one of the crates. “Three days of digging and blasting where Sausalito used to be. The BART station there was buried deep, and I had to make a ramp that wasn’t too steep so the car could get into the tunnel. With all that noise, I was sure the siliboys were going to nail me, but I guess I was deep enough not to wake up the wards.” He gestured at the overstuffed chair. “Have a seat. You can have the comfy chair.”

Tom looked at the chair and the springs poking through the seat cushion, thought better of it, and frowned at Magnus, who was now drinking from a water flask.

“Who are these ‘siliboys’ you keep referring to?”

Magnus coughed and snorted water out of his nose. “The gods, boy! Telemachus and all his silicon friends—although they weren’t really built out of silicon. The AI Dominion. The bad guys.”

Tom nervously looked around, hoping that the ears of the gods were not listening.

“We’re safe down here as long as you don’t hang around too long,” Magnus said, wiping water off of his face. “No bugs in the tunnels. No bugs in the ruins. Didn’t think it was worth their while after they screwed everything up, I guess.”

Tom felt as if Magnus were speaking a foreign language. “What are you talking about now?”

“The Big Bang. What you people like to call The Uplift or The Cleansing.” Magnus paused to study him. “Don’t you know anything?”

“Less than I thought, I guess.” Magnus was talking blasphemy, and it made Tom uncomfortable. As they had learned in school, the scriptures clearly stated that the massive earthquakes of The Cleansing had come about because of the sins of humankind. The entire western region of the country had launched itself skyward in the same moment, flattening the cities and killing tens of millions of people. The Earth had been forced to set an example in retaliation for human neglect, and they all knew that more could have been killed were it not for the intervention of Telemachus and the other benevolent gods of the Dominion that watched over them. “The earthquakes—”

Magnus interrupted him with a raised hand. “First off, they weren’t earthquakes, at least not in the normal sense of the word. The siliboys used their nanotech on us, lad. Sure, it was sneaky the way they covered it all up with stories about the Ring of Fire erupting along the Pacific Coast, but they were the ones that caused it in the first place. Above and below ground, nothing was safe from the nanobombs. The underground stealth bombs spent days quietly digging their way down to their targets in the earthquake faults, then the Dominion triggered them and let Mother Nature do the rest. One Big Bang and a huge chunk of the country was thrown back to the Stone Age. It worked out so well that they did it to other big cities all over the world.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I get around.”

Tom rubbed his eyes. There was a lot going on here that he didn’t understand, and he didn’t want to get himself into more trouble by spending time with a crazy old fugitive full of wild stories. On the other hand, if Magnus was telling the truth, Tom’s family might actually be in danger. He had to warn them and find out if they were safe. “I should be getting back. What’s the fastest way for me to get home?”

Magnus gave him a strange smile. “Depends. Fastest way would be the Road—the Prometheus Road—except you don’t know what that is yet, and I don’t have time to test you or teach you right now.”

“Prometheus Road? What—”

Magnus held up one hand to interrupt Tom, then jerked his thumb toward the car. “There’s always the Buick, of course; I could drop you off at the Sausalito terminal.” His smile vanished as his gaze bored into Tom’s head. “But there’s one thing you need to consider—for some people, there is no going home. Speaking from past experience, my boy, I’d say you’re in the last category.”

Tom shuddered as he saw the truth in those old gray eyes, but he couldn’t let that get to him. “I’d appreciate a ride in your car, but I’ll walk if there’s going to be any delay. I’m concerned about my family.”

Magnus nodded. “I’m not surprised. You seem like a good lad. Your parents must have raised you right.” He hopped down from the crate and started toward the car while Tom followed. “I’ll tell you what; you go visit the old homestead and see that everyone is safe. Don’t talk to anyone. Try to limit how many people see you along the way. I think you’ll find that old Hermes or one of his kind has been around looking for you, and that’s when you’ll realize I’ve been telling you the truth. When that happens, you won’t have anyplace to hide for very long, and you won’t be able to contact your family without endangering them. Everyone in town is scared of the siliboys, so you won’t have any friends when they find out that Hermes is looking for you. When you’re ready for my help, you go on up to the old cemetery outside of Marinwood, and I’ll meet you there.”

Tom hesitated, wondering if he should believe him, hoping it was all just a crazy old man’s fantasy story. “How will you know I’m there?”

Magnus held the door open for him on the passenger side of the Buick and gave Tom that strange, knowing smile that made his skin crawl. “I’ll know.”

THE electric lock on the front door popped open. Gasping for breath, a red-faced Ukiah threw the door open and burst into the sunken family room, startling Luna and Zeke from their card game. The scent of vegetable stew permeated the air of the house, along with the sweet fragrance of freshly baked ginger cookies and roasted cornfruit, but Ukiah didn’t seem to notice. Ukiah’s hat was in his hand, and his shirt was soaked with sweat under his open black coat. He steadied himself, then bent over with his hands on his knees, catching his breath. “Is everyone all right?”

Luna frowned and walked over beside her husband. “We’re fine. What’s wrong?”

“Oracle warned me,” he said, pausing for another breath. “She said a storm is coming, and it threatens all of us. Where’s Tom?”

“He hasn’t come home yet.”

Ukiah’s face looked grim as he nodded. “And Weed? Where’s my Weed?”

Zeke stood up. “She went out to play in the barn, Father. What kind of a storm was the Oracle talking about? Do we need to raise the flood shields?”

Ukiah shook his head. “I don’t think she meant a real, physical storm. It was something else, something bad, but you can never get a straight answer out of her. I have to go and find Tom. I’m sure he’s the key to all this, and I have to warn him. Maybe we can hide him.”

“I’ll look for Tom,” Luna said, wiping his forehead with her hand. “You sit down, or your heart’s going to explode.”

“No time,” Ukiah said, looking toward the door. “Do you have any idea where he goes? I know it’s by the water.”

Luna sighed. “I don’t know. I think he goes different places. I know I would. You can’t go after him in any case, or you’ll be the one who ends up getting caught.”

“If Tom figured out how to avoid the wards, then I can, too.”

“Can I go with you?” Zeke asked, taking his coat down from the wall hook by the door. “With both of us looking, we should have a better chance of finding him.”

Ukiah took a deep breath, then put his arm around his son’s shoulders. “I need you here, Zeke. I want you to help your mother figure out where we can hide Tom.”

Zeke looked disappointed, but he nodded. “Yes, Father.”

Ukiah saw the worry in Luna’s blue eyes as he turned to hold her. “I won’t be gone long.”

“We can’t let them take our son,” Luna said, squeezing him tight. “We’ll do whatever is necessary to prevent that.”

“I won’t allow it,” Ukiah whispered in her ear. “Take care of Weed and Zeke.”