The Tomorrow Heist (23 page)

Dead Lights? Nothing like a creepy project name.
Lew was going to ask more about it, but he'd reached his goal, and that would have to wait for the moment.

He put the robot down and opened the “Authorized Personnel Only” door. Inside, he found a short hallway with several doors lining it. The door that interested him was marked “Security.” It was locked, but with a little Lew finesse—­Lew's nickname for his shoulder—­he coaxed it open, an effort equal to doing the bump on the dance floor thanks to his exo suit. Inside, he found an equipment room. He went in and switched on the light.

“Hello baby,” Lew said. The room was filled with guard uniforms of all sizes, complete with socks and shoes. Lew stepped out of his exo suit, then stripped down, fighting with his wetsuit shorts, which were becoming a part of his flesh. He groaned with pleasure as he took a moment to let his parts breathe and return to their normal size. “Drink it in, boys.”

When the cramp finally left his side, he slipped into one of the uniforms. There was a weapons closet as well, but all it had in it were Tasers and nightsticks. He'd never liked Tasers, so he took two nightsticks and stuck them on either side of his uniform's belt.

He caught himself in a mirror for a second. It was the first time he'd put on a uniform in over twenty years. He didn't like the feeling it gave him, so he looked away. He stepped back into the exo suit, which was a breeze this time, and went back out to the lobby. He picked up the robot and slung it back over his shoulder.

“Now, where were we,” Lew said. But Mikawa didn't respond. “Mickey?”

“
Lew, there appear to be two submersibles impacting each other one hundred thirty-­two meters to the northeast,
” Mikawa finally said after a few minutes of silence. “
It should be known that this could interfere with the optimum dispersal.
”

“The dispersal of what?” Lew asked, knowing somewhere in his bones that Jonny was out there in one of those submersibles. Then Lew remembered what Mikawa had said about Norris.

“Tell me about Project Dead Lights, Mickey.”

J
ONATHAN
TRIED
TO
hang on as Tatsu flipped their sub nose-­up, and Morgan barreled toward them. They were almost all the way around his trajectory when his nose caught the metal tail of their sub with a loud crunch. The little submersible flipped wildly end over end several times before it came back under control.

“Is everyone all right?” Tatsu yelled.

Jonathan had taken the worst of it. The flip had sent him slamming into the ceiling and back down onto the seats, smashing his face on the hard plastic armrest. Blood was gushing out his nose, and he was having trouble focusing, feeling like he was going to pass out.

Maggie was massaging her neck from the whiplash. Per seemed to be status quo, but Jonathan was pretty sure you could break off one of his fingers and his face wouldn't show it.

“More or less,” Jonathan said nasally, spitting blood into the bottom of the sub.

“He's batting us around like a Ping-­Pong ball,” Maggie said.

“And if he'd caught one of the bubbles with that last run, we'd be . . . well, it wouldn't be pretty,” Tatsu said.

Jonathan looked around for something to help them, but they were sitting with their ass hanging out. Below, he could see the glowing ball of Ashita.
So close. If only. . .

“Where's the docking port down there?” Jonathan asked.

“There are two,” Tatsu said, spinning her head around to watch Morgan make a long, arcing turn. “One on the top and another at the base.”

“What are you thinking?” Maggie asked.

“He can't maneuver like we can in that tub. How's his speed?” Jonathan asked.

“He's slower than us, but not by much,” Tatsu said.

“Okay, next run, wait until the last moment and dive under him. Go as fast as you can toward the lower docking port.”

“Yes, very good,” Per said.

“What good will that do? We'll never dock in time. He'll slam into us when we slow down to engage the seal,” Tatsu said.

“I believe he doesn't intend for us to slow down,” Per said.

“Right,” Maggie said. “We've got the maneuverability. He doesn't. We pull up at the last second and—­”

“And Morgan eats it,” Jonathan said.

“That's crazy,” Tatsu said. “I'm not an expert pilot. What if I time it wrong?”

“You won't,” Maggie said.

Tatsu rolled her eyes. “But what if I do.”

“I don't believe it will matter, Tatsu,” Per said. When everyone looked at him, he looked down. They followed his lead. The bottom of the sub had about an inch of water in it.

“Oh my God,” Maggie said.

“It's got to be a system leak,” Tatsu said. “If either bubble was cracked, the pressure change would have imploded us almost immediately.”

“Comforting,” Jonathan said, tenderly touching his nose.

“Is it broken?” Maggie asked.

“Oh yeah,” Jonathan said. “But on the bright side, this next flip will probably snap it back into place.” He tried to smile, but it hurt too much.

“Here he comes,” Tatsu said.

Jonathan looked out the bubble and saw Morgan's sub racing toward them. He sat down, and this time grabbed onto his chair like Per and Maggie were doing.

Jonathan felt her hand reach out and take his. Jonathan looked into her eyes and nodded. “Let's play some chicken.”

Morgan, with a look on his face like that of a comic-­book villain, flew toward them. When he'd halved the distance, Tatsu started forward. He reacted and seemed confused for a minute, but then he bore down, the subs flying at each other. The distance shrank incredibly fast, twenty meters, fifteen, ten, then it was time. Jonathan felt Maggie squeeze his hand, and he squeezed back, closing his eyes.

“Here we go!” Tatsu said as she slammed the stick forward. They rocketed down, the runners under Morgan's sub screeching as they glanced off the top of the little sub. “We made it!”

But Jonathan didn't get as excited as Tatsu. That was only step one. Freezing water sloshed around Jonathan's ankles as he opened his eyes and saw their target far below. The docking port was a ten-­meter-­long tunnel, sticking out from Ashita's curved base like a foot.

“Ease up,” Jonathan said as he looked back and saw Morgan making the turn. If they got to the port too soon, the plan wouldn't work. Jonathan watched as Morgan came out of his turn, his mouth yawning open like he was yelling something. And then he was closing on them.

“Go!” Maggie yelled.

As they flew deeper and deeper, the water got darker and darker. Jonathan looked up, but he couldn't see the dim light of the surface any longer. He thought about Natalie. How much he missed her and how he couldn't bear the idea of dying without seeing her face one more time, holding her in his arms and telling her it would be all right.

They passed the top of Ashita and flew down past the triangle windows that made up its incredible structure. He could see inside the dome now, a giant tower rising in the center like a space-­age skyscraper, the lush lawn and trees lining the base floor. Was Lew in there? Would he see him again?

“He's almost on us!” Maggie shouted. “Faster!”

“This is it!” Tatsu shouted back. The sub was shimmying. Jonathan didn't know if it was from the speed or the depth, but it didn't really matter. He wanted to close his eyes again but forced himself to keep watching. The port grew in size and he could see the door that led inside the behemoth, wondering what would happen if the plan worked, and Morgan slammed into the port.

“Now!” Tatsu shouted, yanking back on the stick.

The sub shot up over the port and continued to rise, water racing around the bubble from the gees they were pulling. The freezing water fell back on them, making everyone's breath catch. Jonathan wiped the stinging seawater from his eyes and looked back. Morgan was desperately trying to mimic their maneuver, but the lumbering sub couldn't match their little vehicle's arc. With the nose pulled up, the tubular sub slammed belly first into the roof of the port, ripping open like a Christmas cracker. For a brief second, Jonathan saw Morgan raising his hands over his head, his open mouth shaped into a different kind of scream, then the pressure of a half mile of water slammed down on the broken sub, crushing the tube into a rough ball of metal, a sea of bubbles rising.

They watched the ball bounce onto the seafloor and roll to a stop. Jonathan checked the docking port, waiting for the worst to happen, but aside from some scrape marks across the roof, the port held. Whatever it was made of was stronger than steel.

There were no shouts of victory. No sighs of relief. They'd watched a life end in one of the most horrible ways possible. Everyone was silent, and Maggie and Jonathan stopped holding hands, Jonathan's aching from her grip. Everyone fought to catch their breath and deal with what had just happened as Tatsu slowed their ascent and banked over the top of the sphere.

“There's the other port,” Per said solemnly. Though he seemed to say everything solemnly, this time was slightly different.

Jonathan checked his watch as Tatsu maneuvered into the upper docking bay. Eighty minutes. He stared at the vastness of Ashita below. They had named it right.
Tomorrow.

Today wasn't ready for any of this. Not by a long shot.

 

Chapter Thirty-­two

3:45
P.M.

“W
HAT
THE
HELL
was that?” Lew asked after the entire sphere began vibrating all of a sudden.

“
One of the submersibles has had a catastrophic depressurization. Shall we continue?
” Mikawa said, referring to the explanation of Project Dead Lights he was running through for the second time with Lew.

“Crap. Where's the other sub?” Lew asked as he continued to climb the stairs toward his goal on the nineteenth floor, the robot over his shoulder swaying with each step. He figured summoning one of the elevators would be like sending off an “I'm over here” flare. He wasn't really sure anyone was looking for him, but he wanted to keep it that way.

“
The remaining submersible has berthed in the upper docking ring. Shall we continue?
” Mikawa said.

“Yes, fine. Continue,” Lew said. He then mumbled to himself, “Not like it will help.” The first run-­through had made about as much sense as a giant sphere at the bottom of the ocean. He'd asked for a repeat, but in simpler terms.

“
Project Dead Lights—­originally Project Threshold—­was started six months ago. The main goal was to limit the human life span.
”

“Limit? Limit it to what?”

“
Eighty years.
”

“You need a virus for that? How many ­people in the world are even older than eighty?” Lew asked.

“
Approximately seventy-­five million.
”

“Jesus. So, this virus would make seventy-­five million ­people drop dead?”

“
I've already answered that question. Shall I continue?
”

“Yes, continue.”

“
Dr. Eric Norris was asked to implement the project using an algal delivery system. This vector was achieved in computer model four weeks ago. The Threshold virus was completed three weeks ago. The optimal launch date was selected and entered into the launch computer. Dr. Eric Norris disappeared later that day. “

Lew stopped climbing. “Algal delivery system? Simplify, Mikawa,” Lew said, mostly understanding this time.

“
Algae designed to be released into the ocean's currents for worldwide dispersal.
”

“
Mother.
Is the launch sequence still running?” Lew asked.

“
Yes, Lew. And the vector has grown to sufficient capacity, as outlined in Dr. Norris's charter.
”

“What is the launch date, Mikawa?”

“
Today.
”

“When today?”

“
Sixty-­nine minutes and forty-­two seconds from now.
”

“Of course it is,” Lew said. “Where is Project Dead Lights?”

“
Doctor Norris's lab.
”

“Can you control it? Stop the launch?” Lew asked.

“
No, the launch controls are on a discrete system. We have no way of interacting with it.
”

“How are the algae being launched?” Lew asked, reasoning that virus or not, algae were living things, and if they just tried to squirt it out into the ocean from down here, the cold and pressure would end their little experiment before it started.

“
A few dozen escape pods were installed in case of emergency when Ashita was first brought online. They have since been repurposed as algae-­delivery capsules.
”

“Where are the escape pods?” Lew asked.

“
At the top of Ashita. There's an access hatch in the visitor center that leads up to the escape annex.
”

Lew opened the door a crack and looked out from the stairwell into the hallway that led to Dr. Norris's lab. Ten meters up the hall, two guards stood outside a door. Every now and then, Reese would stick his head out and say something to the guards. One of them would touch the Taser on his belt, and Reese would disappear back into the room.

“
Lew, you've stopped climbing. Is there a problem?
”

“No problem, Mickey. Just a detour. I'll be on my way up to you in no time.”

“
Good. That is good. We knew you were not like the others. We can trust you,
” Mikawa said. The change in Mikawa's tone concerned Lew, but he didn't have time to psychoanalyze a bunch of circuits right now.

“We're buddies, Mickey. You can count on that,” Lew said.

“
Yes, count on that. Also, Lew, we have an update. There are now twelve ­people on Ashita.
”

“Four more from the other sub?”

“
Yes. And now that it is docked, we have run a diagnostic. It would be unsafe to use the sub again in its current condition. Would you like us to initiate repairs?
”

“Uh, sure,” Lew said. Then he thought of something else. “Does anyone on Ashita besides me have a communication implant now?”

“
Yes, one of the new guests has a similar implant, would you like us to activate it?
”

“You can do that? I mean, yes! Activate it!”

“
Communications activated.
”

Suddenly, Lew felt nervous, a very unusual feeling for him. He forcibly calmed himself.

“Jonny?”