Luca Read online

  Outside the window, acres and acres of neon buildings rise like lasers into the night. Soon it will all be a giant graveyard.

  “Four-and-a-half.” Mercer swallows the last of the lemon. Juice dribbles down his chin.

  “May I ask a question?”

  “Please do.”

  Qaara turns her gaze to Mercer. “Let me be frank. Why are you trying to keep an apocalypse of this magnitude secret? We have to prepare. The whole world has to prepare. Surely you’ve had the foresight to share this information with——”

  “Foresight?” Mercer leans back, blinking his eyes like he’s been slapped in the face. “You’re implying that I lack foresight? That I’ve done something wrong?”

  Sensing immediate danger and regretting her words, Qaara shakes her head. “No, it’s just that information of such significance—”

  “Must be handled with extreme caution and, yes, foresight. If it became prematurely public, the consequences would be devastating. Riots. Wars. The wholesale destruction of all that our civilization has achieved. So I’ve been careful. A few people know bits and pieces. I've gone to lengths to keep this project compartmentalized due to the obvious sensitivity of the subject matter.” Mercer puts the green jewel back inside the rock. It seals shut. “You and I are the only ones that have the full picture. All the others are—”

  “Dead?”

  “Yes, actually.” Mercer shakes his head, visibly suppressing a grin. “Unfortunate accidents can happen anywhere.”

  In an instant, Qaara understands that she’s Mercer’s prisoner. All the rumors she’s heard about his ruthless behavior are, in fact, true. The talk of murders is no exaggeration. Mind racing along multiple paths, she comes to a single conclusion.

  Mercer is her enemy.

  Like the bullet racers on windless days on the clear glass of the ocean off the coast, her brain screams by, quickly reaching another conclusion.

  She must obey him.

  Mercer’s had months to plan. All the details, including Qaara, are perfectly in place. He’s too powerful and ruthless to oppose. Any effort to fight him will place her in imminent danger.

  What can she do against such domination?

  Answering her question, she takes a stand for the first time in her life. Pushing back the logic and fear, her life’s priorities rearrange themselves, like massive continents moving beneath the calm surface of the water.

  She will fight Mercer.

  But, for now, she must hide it from him. Dropping back into her chair, Qaara faces the hologram and pushes all emotion out of her voice. “Mr. Mercer, I understand the gravity of the situation. I’ll stay here day and night until I figure out a way to deactivate this molecule. We still have four days. There has to be a way.”

  “That’s entirely unnecessary.” Mercer stands. “You've already done magnificent work. Exactly what I hoped for. I couldn’t be happier.”

  Qaara’s eyes widen. “I’m not sure I understand—”

  Mercer walks to the door. “You’ve confirmed the very thing I’d hoped you would. This molecule is impenetrable. If you can’t find its weakness, nobody can. It’s going to rain down on the world and destroy it.” He looks up, grinning. “A gift from God. I just wanted to be sure, that’s all. And now that I’m sure, now that we are sure, we can move forward.”

  “But sir, with all due respect, if what you’ve just told me is true, we’re all going to die.”

  Stopping near the door, Mercer turns back. “You and I won’t be dying. We’ll leave that to the rest of the world.”

  “But how can—”

  “There was one detail I forgot to mention.” He balances the black rock on the palm of his hand. “This rock has more than one interesting property. Besides being hard enough to break carbon drill bits, can you guess what it does?”

  “I have no—”

  “It’s simple. It’s impervious to the molecule from hell—the Cloud substance. It just slides off like water.”

  Qaara’s eyebrows rise.

  “Oh, and one other small detail. We reverse-engineered the stuff and figured out how to mass-produce it. All in secret. I had a network of domes built out of it. On the east coast of Japan. Near Fukushima. Fully stocked and large enough for a few thousand to escape destruction.”

  Qaara’s jaw drops.

  “I’m going to save civilization, Qaara. While everything crumbles around me, I’m going to preserve what’s best. The technology. The culture. The achievements. Of course, I can’t save everything. Or everyone. I’ll have to decide what and who. I started a list months ago. You’d be surprised to know who’s on it and who isn’t. It’s been a difficult process, keeping it all secret while pushing the project forward."

  Qaara can’t believe what she’s hearing. “And when the Cloud passes, then what?”

  “Then I’m going to walk out of my shelter and restart the world, Qaara. On my terms. Exactly the way it should be. The way it was meant to be.”

  Nausea spreads in Qaara’s belly.

  Her resolve to fight Mercer wavers, almost melting away. The realization dawns on her that control of her destiny is slipping irretrievably away.

  She slumps into her chair. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”

  “I try.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Not much, really.” Mercer pulls another lemon from inside his suit. “Your intellect. Your beauty. Your genetic perfection, linked to mine, of course. What I really want, though it may sound old-fashioned, is your presence. I want you to come with me to Japan and help me rebuild the world. The old one is going to die, Qaara. A new one awaits. That’s not much to ask in exchange for your life, is it?”

  Qaara opens her mouth to speak but can’t find the words.

  “Don’t waste any time thinking about it. It’s settled. You’re coming with me. We leave tomorrow.”

  “But—”

  “Where’s your jax?”

  Qaara pulls it from the pocket of her lab coat. “Why?”

  Without a word, Mercer walks forward and swipes the jax from Qaara’s hand. “Just a precaution. I can’t risk you talking to anyone. And another thing." Mercer opens the door. “It may begin to get dicey. For you own safety, you’re going to stay here until we leave. I’ll keep the guards outside the door. Nobody in or out.”

  Her resolve to fight grows fainter. The continents inside her move back to their familiar shape and location. Qaara realizes that nothing has changed. She’s still a slave to someone else’s vision of who she is and what she’ll do. And there’s nothing she can do about it, not if she wants to live.

  The voice of rebellion inside her rises a little at this thought, screaming against whatever plan Mercer has made for her.

  She manages to tamp most of it down but not all.

  “None of this is in my employment agreement. What if I decide I’m not going with you? Will you kill me, like the others?”

  “Don’t be crazy. I want you to live, and I’m offering you the only chance of survival. You can be one of the founders of a new civilization."

  “There’s still time to figure out what to do. We can let the world know. With everyone’s help, we will find a way through this."

  “You don’t understand.” Mercer opens the door. “I don't want to find another way. I’ve already found one. Mine.”

  “But millions will die.”

  “Billions. Close to twenty to be exact. But it’s none of my concern. It all boils down to one simple principle. Survival of the fittest. And I am the fittest. So are you. We will inherit all the best that civilization has to offer. Take it for ourselves. For free.”

  “What about my family? Friends?”

  “My life is uncomplicated. I have neither to worry about.” Mercer runs a finger through his hair, smoothing it down. “I've been working on the list of people that will be allowed to survive. It’s a rational plan based on their ability to contribute to the cause. Our cause. I’m afraid there
isn't much room left for family or friends. Certain sacrifices will have to be accepted.”

  Before Qaara can speak, a pinging sound penetrates the silence of the room.

  Mercer pulls a jax out of his pocket. Long, slender and white, it reminds Qaara of a shark tooth. Or a T. Rex claw.

  The blue holo of a face jumps above the jax. “We just completed the full-spectrum scan of the room, as you requested, sir.”

  “And?”

  The woman in the holo licks her lips. “Bad news. We found a data sniffer on the wall, by the door. New Fijian tech. Never would have found it without the trackers from China. Looks like it’s engaged and fully operational. Someone's been watching you for the last half hour.”

  “Were you able to trace it?”

  “Affirmative. Security is on its way now. Looks like it’s somewhere out in the Fringe. Should be there in seconds. We’ll make sure the source is terminated. Immediately."

  “Good. Make it quick and clean. No trace.”

  “Understood.”

  The holo vanishes.

  Mercer turns to face the wall, near the door. “Whoever you are, I hope you’ve thoroughly enjoyed watching our little show. I’m a sporting man, and you have only seconds to live. So, I have some advice. Run.”

  12

  BIOJAZZ

  “Ricky!”

  Jedd grips his slate and jumps out of his bed, making for the door, grabbing his backpack and pulling a small pulse pistol off the wall.

  “Ricky! We have to go!”

  A head stirs from the pillow. “We both work tomorrow. Get some asleep.”

  “No time to argue.” Jedd dashes back and grabs Ricky’s arm, jerking him out of the bed and to his feet. “We gotta get out!”

  “Look, if this is about Joey—”

  For an instant the flimsy walls vibrate. A far-off whine draws closer.

  Ricky’s eyes grow wide. “I know that sound. Targeting protocol.”

  Pulling Ricky with him, Jedd sprints across the room for the opposite wall. On the way, he raises the pistol, thumbs the safety and fires a series of rounds, opening a hole to the outside. They both dive through it. Behind them, fire explodes and blooms inside the room, sending flames over their heads as they fall into the sewage pond in the rear of their apartment.

  The heat of the blast singes the top of Jedd’s hair as his face disappears into the black liquid. Multiple concussions shake the water. Jedd’s ears ring.

  When he comes back to the surface, his head feels like a Z-ball under pressure. Blood is pouring from his eyes and nose. Turning to look at the apartment, he can’t find it. All that’s left is a crater littered with smoldering debris.

  Directly above, an attack ship hangs in the night air, its massive rotors stirring up dust and garbage in two intertwining twisters. Half a dozen men in combat gear rappel from its wings like spiders on black silk threads.

  Heavy hands grab Jedd’s hair and shoulders and pull him from the sewage pond.

  He looks up. A woman with huge shoulders and biceps stares down. Illegal tissue grafts the color of blue. Bald head polished to a fine gloss. Flaming red face with white lightning tats. Orange eyes with double black dots in the middle.

  No doubt about it.

  The Tribe.

  “You got problems all around.” The woman smiles, exposing long teeth filed down to needle points. “Somebody from the City wants you and your friend dead. Genesis Corporation, from the looks of it. Well, I got good news. I’m not going to let them kill you. I’ll do it later myself.”

  A needle pricks Jedd in the neck, and a black bag envelops his head. Arms and legs numb, he is pushed headfirst into a waiting car. A jungle of arms pull him in.

  The stench of cheap biojazz is overpowering.

  “You there, Ricky?” Jedd listens for an answer. “Sorry I got you into this mess.”

  “Ricky?” says a baritone voice not far from Jedd. “Who’s that?"

  “Must be the cute one over there,” another voice answers behind Jedd. “Looks like it’s lights out for him. At least for now. That was some explosion.”

  “Ah, don’t worry,” the baritone voice purrs. “Doc'll have him patched up in no time. Then we can all have some fun. With both of them.”

  The silhouette of Qaara Kapoor floats in Jedd’s mind. He sees her on a chair, staring at that holo in her office. He tries to remember what he saw and heard, but it’s just a jumble of words and images. Frank Mercer himself was there. He wanted Qaara to go with him. Something about a Cloud that’s going to rain down destruction from the sky and melt the world.

  She didn’t want to go. She was afraid. He could tell by the look in her eyes. Those perfect eyes.

  He can’t hold it back any longer. For the past six months, he’s tried, but the idea keeps fighting its way back to the surface. A voice inside his head screams out.

  I’m coming to get you, Qaara, Jedd thinks. To take you away from Genesis. Hold on until I get there.

  A blunt object comes down hard on his head. His ears ring. Then he passes out.

  13

  NEURON SPIRALS

  New voices in her mind.

  Luca stands in line with the other girls, along one wall of the courtyard. Her gaze rests on the director of the Institution, the woman she calls Cat.

  “Welcome to the Fukushima Associated Institution for the Rehabilitation and Education of Radiation Victims.” Cat bows deeply, her head dropping to a point just above her waist. “We are most honored by your presence.”

  Another woman bows in reply. Her leather bodysuit reflects the glare of the sun. Black gloves and a face mask over her mouth match the color of her hair, cut in a short bob.

  A light transport with Chinese markings waits on the roof of the Institution, its two rotors still spinning in the breeze.

  “I don’t have much time. Are you sure it’s safe to be here?” The woman adjusts her mask, pushing it closer into her face. “We’re in the middle of the Death Grid here. An international toxic waste dump. Worse than Beijing.”

  Cat smiles and slides the toe of her shoe across the dirt. “With all due respect, you can’t believe all the rumors you hear in Beijing. The soil has been excavated to a depth of three meters for a square mile. We are on an island of cleanliness in an ocean of filth. You're standing on new dirt brought from the foot of Mount Fuji. It’s perfectly safe.”

  “What about the wind?” The woman glances at the line of girls along the opposite wall. “Doesn’t it blow radioactive dust in from the outside?”

  “During the past two generations, cesium levels from the Accident have dropped to less than a quarter of the original measurements. We constantly monitor radiation.” Cat glances at her slate. “It’s all very safe. As long as you stay inside the fence.” She moves across the courtyard, gently guiding the woman as she walks to the wall where the girls wait. “The only toxic materials are the girls’ brain tissues. But that’s not a worry. As long as you stay outside their minds.”

  “Pardon me?” The woman looks up and down the line of girls.

  Cat laughs. “I’m sorry. Just a figure of speech. You’re quite safe.”

  The woman casts another glance in the direction of the girls, lined up, hands behind their backs. Silent in their clean shirts.

  Luca senses the woman’s fear.

  The other girls must sense it, too. Luca hears their voices rise in chaos inside her mind.

  The visitor follows Cat closer to the line.

  Luca’s eyes narrow to concentrate on their words. And their thoughts.

  “Your reports got our attention, both in Tokyo and Beijing.” The woman turns to Cat.

  “That was my intent.”

  “How can they be alive with such high radiation levels inside their skulls?” The woman takes half a step back. “We looked at the scans you sent. Are you certain your conclusions are correct? New structures of neurons?”

  “Our methods are unorthodox. That much is true.” Cat cradles the slate i
n her arm. “But it’s yielding results. As you can see.”

  The woman flexes the muscles in her jaw. “All I see is a line of pathetic girls born in a toxic wasteland, over-radiated and undernourished. Abandoned by their parents. Acute schizophrenia running rampant. Barely human.”

  “But we are treating them, just as the government requested.” Cat’s upper body stiffens. “We’ve seen measurable improvement in symptoms.”

  “They no longer hear voices?” The woman raises an eyebrow.

  “When we started the program, the girls were entirely intractable. Out of control. In a state of constant auditory stimulation. It was pure chaos.” Cat steps closer to the line of girls and reaches out to a silent one, raising her chin and staring into her eyes. "Yes, they were hearing voices. But more than that, it was almost as if they were communicating with . . . each other. Anything alive.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The children claimed to hear thoughts in the form of words or music. From the trees. From flowers. Animals outside the perimeter. Insects. Even the workers here at the Institution.”

  The woman walks to Cat’s side. “And now?”

  “Of course, it was all just hallucination on a massive scale. Schizophrenic chaos. But, as you can see, they are calm now. Quiet. The symptoms are almost gone. With a few stubborn exceptions.” Her eyes scan down the line to Luca, lingering for an instant. "There is no doubt. With more treatment, we will be able to introduce them back into general society.”

  “This treatment,” the woman says. “How does it work?”

  “We administer negative physical stimuli when the symptoms manifest and keep them on a carefully monitored, low-calorie diet.”

  “In other words, you beat and starve them?” The woman turns to meet Cat’s gaze, eyes narrowing. “That is exactly what has our Minister of Foreign Affairs worried. We Chinese have been in Tokyo for less than a generation. If any of this were to leak to the Mesh, it wouldn’t play well. As you know, our government is extremely sensitive to outside criticism. The political ramifications could be—”

  “No, it’s not like that,” Cat says. “We gently reinforce the fact that the voices aren’t real. We teach them behaviors and strategies to avoid engagement and dialogue. Give them tools to ignore the sounds in their heads. Make the voices themselves distasteful. With persistent treatment, the voices eventually go away.”