Part 27 (1/2)

”Pressure plates,” Threnody said, pointing at the platform through the view window. ”If they're removed without the codes being entered, an alarm is triggered. Lucas said there's always a team of Warhounds on standby ready to teleport in. Considering the state of the world right now, we don't know if they actually would, but we can't risk it. Nathan can't know we're stealing the bomb.”

”Great.” Novak unsealed his gloves and freed his hands. ”Never thought we'd be repeating history.”

”For a hacker, you lack imagination,” Kerr said. ”Lucas is making history, not repeating it.”

”Says you.” Novak stared bleakly at his task. ”This ain't right.”

”Stop arguing and get to work. We don't have much time left. We aren't teleporting out and we need to be finished before our pickup arrives.”

Novak reached for the controls attached to the work terminal. He pulled out a hard wire and attached it to the neuroport in his left wrist. Taking a deep breath, he opened himself up to the inevitable, inspecs flickering in the back of his eyes as code flowed through his brain.

PART SEVEN.

Temporal.

SESSION DATE: 2128.07.10.

LOCATION: Inst.i.tute of Psionics Research.

CLEARANCE ID: Dr. Amy Bennett.

SUBJECT: 2581.

FILE NUMBER: 627.

When the doctor enters, Aisling is standing in front of the machines, staring at the monitors and the data that moves across them in sharp lines; high peaks and deep valleys dictate who she is. She has one hand pressed against a vidscreen that shows her baseline, the graph far more skewed than a human's.

”Aisling, please step away from there,” the doctor says.

”Don't worry. My power isn't the kind that affects machines.” Aisling slides her fingers over the baseline reading. ”That one isn't born yet.”

The doctor takes her seat at the table, and Aisling calmly returns to her own. The wires trail behind her and brush along the ground. She climbs onto her chair and looks at the camera instead of the doctor.

”You know I'm right, Ciari.”

”Please focus, Aisling,” the doctor says. ”Let's stick to what's important.”

”She is important. They all are down the years, so long as they listen.”

The doctor glances up at her. ”Will it change anything, these people you dream about?”

”They aren't dreams,” Aisling says, scowling. ”They're real. And things will change if they listen.”

”What if they don't?”

Aisling shrugs. ”There are lots of ways this could end, but I chose to only see one.”

THIRTY-FIVE.

SEPTEMBER 2379.

LONDON, UNITED KINGDOM.

Did Gideon make it onto the s.p.a.ce shuttle?

Nathan felt Dalia wince at his telepathic demand, the psi link in her mind an overused ache that she couldn't block or ignore. Sharra's s.p.a.ce shuttle launched hours ago with all pa.s.sengers accounted for, according to the manifest. By tomorrow morning, they'll have reached the Ark.

You're certain?

Yes. We've been launching s.p.a.ce shuttles all day, but we only have one ramp and only so much s.p.a.ce to house people, even if it is temporary. I've transferred all the Warhounds you've sent me into priority boarding, but that's all I can do right now. How many more should I expect?

Half of my Warhounds haven't even left their posts yet. There are supplies and other things that are important to gaining control of Mars Colony that we can't leave without. By tomorrow, you should have close to a quarter of those left behind.

Are you sure that's safe? Dalia's thoughts shook with exhaustion and fear. Nathan clamped down tighter on her mind.

As you said, the government has only one launch ramp and little safe s.p.a.ce in Paris for everyone. The launch is going to take days and it's going to be messy. There will be s.p.a.ce shuttles still available.

Of course, sir.

Nathan cut the connection, his attention refocusing on the half dozen uplinks spread across his work terminal's vidscreen. Human field controllers loyal to the Serca Syndicate by deep mindwipes and Warhounds whose duties weren't quite done yet waited patiently for his commands.

”Where were we?” he said, bringing the meeting back on track.

It didn't take long. Twenty minutes later, he was cutting the uplinks, the vidscreen going blank. Nathan got to his feet and paced over to the window wall behind his desk, looking out at the dark London skyline. The view was familiar, committed to memory long ago. Back when he was a child, he thought London would remain his home. That he would die here, young and seemingly human, but that was no longer the case. London would only exist in his memories and Nathan found he wouldn't mind forgetting it.

Rioters still fought on the streets surrounding the city towers. Their attacks against the government and registered humans hadn't abated, were in fact becoming more violent with every hour that pa.s.sed. Shuttle launches to Paris were scheduled to continue for the next few days. It was enough time for everyone not on the colony list to come together and fight for rights long denied them, but it was a fight they would lose.

The world population of highly educated people was dwindling at an alarming rate, with registered humans fleeing Earth for a tenuous promise in the stars. The remains of society would struggle to pick itself up, if anything was left after the first year of abandonment. The brain drain the World Court had engineered would cripple those left behind. Perhaps not into extinction, but close enough that the rot in the world would win. The rioters were protesting their oncoming deaths. Nathan thought it a futile action.

The computer chimed, alerting him to an incoming uplink. Nathan turned around to see that it was tagged with an emergency code. He went over to his desk to accept it. Erik's face filled the vidscreen, pale and frantic.

”Nathan,” Erik said. ”The neurotrackers failed.”