Fear the Future (The Fear Saga Book 3) (30 page)

It would not work. The driver was still accelerating as hard as he could. As Bohdan’s right hand brought the cylinder he had retrieved down and pushed it through into the car, Bohdan executed a quick move with his left hand. First he whipped it backward into the driver’s head, either to kill him or knock him unconscious, Bohdan did not care which, then to the side to dislodge the gear stick, then back to the wheel.

It took a fraction of a second, but immediately the car’s momentum shifted, it was no longer driving toward the oncoming traffic; he could bring it under control now.

As the car began a long coast, the stout, black cylinder Bohdan had dropped into its midst opened.

The two guards on either side of their leader, thinking it was a bomb, threw themselves over their ward, hoping to shield him. Bohdan fought any urge to mock this. It was an extraordinarily brave act, and it was matched by the Supreme Leader, Bohdan had to admit, who fought to force them off him, wanting to face his fate.

But the men did not understand, thought Bohdan. None of them did. Maybe they never would. For now fear took them once more as six mechanical spiders sprung from the cylinder’s ends. The little machines crawled with speed and liquidity that was repulsive, climbing up the three men’s legs even as they all swatted at the machines with mounting panic, something in them sending them primal as hoarse, terror-ridden screams escaped their lips.

But the machines kept coming, crawling this way and that. Some were indeed brushed away but they only came again, relentless, hard-shelled, clawed little beasts seeking a point. Bohdan helped his minions along a little as the car continued to slow, pulling a device no more advanced than a Taser from his belt, only with a far more lasting charge, and hitting each man in turn.

They convulsed physically now, even as they continued to shake with fear inside their minds, their eyes wide as the spiders crawled up their bodies to their necks, then around behind them.

The clamps were not gentle as they sank into the men’s skins. Claws to hold the spiders in place, if only to save the men from paralyzing injury as the spiders began injecting themselves into the spinal cords of their new hosts.

It did not take long.

Bohdan saw with no small amount of disdain as the men went limp for real now, not from a jolt of electricity, but from a co-opting of their very bodies.

God.

That was how the voice introduced itself.

God:
‘STOP FIGHTING!’

They did. Though they had been limp, they had been resisting by force of will. Struggling with all their might against the invasion of their selves. Whether through shock or obedience, they stopped now, becoming completely still, inside and out.

God:
‘better. silence now. listen. i have something to tell you. something to show you. you three will be the enlightened ones. you three will be the first. you will spread my word to your nation and silence the nonbelievers. you will listen to me. you will listen and
you … will … obey
.’

The voice went on. Bohdan could not hear the voice booming in their heads, but a different one in his own head was telling him that it was time to go. They had connection.

The three spiders that had proven superfluous climbed back into the cylinder now. And as the spinal interfaces sank home and finalized their imbedding process, the spiders that had delivered them climbed free as well, leaving only the link and a small dome on the back of each of their hosts’ necks. It would require regular charging and occasional maintenance, but instructions for that would be delivered in time to their hosts, when they were needed.

For now, the voice spoke into their minds, and images began to fill them. Very real images. Images of the coming Armada, augmented with estimates from Quavoce and John Hunt, descriptions of the very real power and ability of that fleet. And instructions for how Iran was going to start supporting the effort to fight it. Supporting it with all its might, both financial and intellectual.

As the leader’s car finally rolled to a halt, Bohdan leapt down from its roof. A black plane was coming in hard and low. It would not stop, it would barely slow down. Bohdan began running, accelerating as hard as he could. He leapt with all his might even as the plane was still behind him and connected with Hektor’s powerful arm as the man leaned out from the plane’s rear access hatch.

As he was pulled aboard, the plane accelerated, without restraint now, upward and outward. Away from the city. It carried Jim, the automatons, and the two surviving Spezialists.

It would return with a more diplomatic mission when TASC was formally invited by the Supreme Leader, as Neal knew they soon would be.

Chapter 29: The Closing Door

Jim leapt from the StratoJet’s hatch like a spat thing, thrusting himself forward even as Hektor and Bohdan started to unpack their larger selves from inside the plane’s austere hull.

He was across the landing bay on the southern side of Milton SpacePort before they had even gotten out of the craft. Jim’s anger was written across his face, his frustration now repurposed, redirected toward the people he was ever more certain were its just recipients.

He stormed along familiar corridors. A member of his staff was waiting for him, holding out a bottle of water and a sandwich, fulfilling a perceived need.

“Not now,” he said brusquely, eying the refreshment with disdain.

As he passed by one of his many administrative floors and approached the sentries outside the long corridor to Neal’s office, he wondered for a moment if they would stop him. If they would sense his anger and block his passage. But they did not vet members of Neal’s inner-circle like that. It was not their mandate.

Minnie was watching him, though. Both through his own link and through the eyes of the two sentries, and hundreds of others, she watched him as he stormed down the long corridor.

Minnie:
<¿jim, are you all right?>

He ignored her.

Minnie:

Jim:
‘i know, minnie. and that is just the point, isn’t it. “this part of you.” they found him, minnie. they found that soldier so very fucking mysteriously. and that led to the shit-show i just had the misfortune of being at the damn head of.’

He got to the door and knocked loudly. Not so much as a courtesy, but because he knew this was not a door he was physically capable of barging through.

Neal:
‘just a second, jim. i am wrapping something up.’

Jim:
‘open the door, neal. ¡now! i demand to speak with you. and i think you would prefer it if i didn’t do it out loud … out here.’

There was a pause, then the door opened and Jim was greeted by Jennifer’s uncertain visage. They had met many times, of course. The woman who had come to share Neal’s bed could not help but be painfully familiar with Neal’s right hand, if only through the mostly friendly push and pull of each of them competing for Neal’s time and attention.

This was not that, though. This was not a request for time. Jim’s expression could not have been plainer. Neal had told Jennifer he needed time to talk to his chief of staff, and asked her to leave them to it, and his tone had been clear as well. This was not a conversation either was looking forward to, and nor was it one that either wished to have an audience for.

Jennifer glanced back at Neal, as if to say, ‘are you sure you want me to leave you two alone?’

But Neal’s face was resolute. He neither needed nor wanted her here for what was about to happen.

- - -

“Stop bullshitting me, Neal.”

“Your anger is understandable, Jim, trust me. I am just as disappointed as you.”

“That is a lie, and you know it. There is no way they could have found him. I looked at the recordings. I watched what they did to that man. They didn’t stumble upon him. They weren’t sweeping. They went straight to his location.”

Neal breathed deep. It was hard to argue Jim’s point, so he stopped trying.

“I agree, Jim, it is profoundly disturbing. They must have found out … somehow. I don’t know how, and you can be sure I will not rest until I do.”

Jim went to reply, but Neal went on, “Believe me when I say that I am as shocked by this whole day as you are. It was only my belief in the importance of this mission that stopped me from having Ayala take the culprits into custody.”

Jim’s face became plaintive. “Culprits? Culprits!
We
are the culprits, Neal, don’t you see that?
We
invaded their country without permission.
We
sent heavily armed men to do what can only be described as the most appalling and profound abuse of another human’s rights possible. I agreed to it
only
as a last resort.
Only
if the diplomatic effort failed. Did it, Neal? Did it fail? Or did you kill it? Because I cannot see a way in which
they
are the culprits here!”

Neal became more strident. “You cannot see a way? How about the fact that they were threatening to send us into war, Jim? That just like the Russians they were risking everything, all for petty greed.”

“But they weren’t, Neal!” said Jim, pleading now, tears brimming in his eyes. “They
weren’t
. The Russians were the victims of an incredibly capable spy and an overambitious fanatic. But these men, they were just guilty of ignorance.” He shrank a little now, something giving in him as he thought of what he had just lost. What they had all just lost. As his back sagged and his eyes veered slowly to the ground, he said in quiet desperation, “If I could just have spoken to them. If I could just have made them see.”

Neal’s firmness faltered, just a little. Jim was a good man, a selfless man, and his dedication was without question. Perhaps more importantly, Neal knew that there was a chance that Jim might have been able to do what he set out to do. But that was just it: a
chance
. Neal could no longer afford to wait for chances and hopes. He had to get things back on track, in any way he could.

“Jim,” he said, with unfeigned affection, and even some measure of regret. “My friend. I am as sad as you are about how things turned out, truly I am. I am horrified at what we have been forced to do. But don’t you see that now we
can
talk to them. That is all we have really done. We have opened up a door. And it is one they cannot close.”

Jim froze. When his face came back up it was with a look of profound and genuine disgust. “If that was all you wanted to do, Neal, then it would have cost you nothing to wait a while longer. To let me try to finish what I had started.”

“Events conspired against us, Jim. There was nothing I could do.”

Now Jim’s eyes set. “Very well, Neal. If you truly had nothing to do with this, then open Ayala’s files to me. Give me complete access. I want to see who she has spoken to, and what she has told them. I want to know what she is up to.”

Neal held Jim’s gaze as he thought about this. While he did, another voice came into his mind.

Ayala:
‘show him, neal. he will find nothing in any files.’

The very fact that she had been listening, that she appeared to always be listening, disturbed Neal for the very first time. After the first Skalm had been completed, after the need to keep the Dome secret had finally past, he had relished an end to secrets. Now he longed for a little of that privacy once more, both to protect himself and Ayala from an enraged chief of staff, and to protect himself from an ever more pervasive Ayala.

“Of course, Jim. Of course,” he said, placatingly.

“Not just now, permanently. I want a review board set up to oversee her and her team.”

Neal nodded, even as Ayala whispered in his ear once more, then Neal said, “Of course, Jim. I think that is an excellent idea.”

Jim waited a moment, his eyes reinforcing his immovability on this. Neal nodded again, a look not of contriteness, perhaps, but of compliance. Jim, in turn, was not satisfied, so much as aware that he had gotten as much as he could reasonably expect from the confrontation. He needed to calm down. He needed to think.

He left without further comment.

He would continue to demand access, and indeed he would get it. And once he got it he would review it with every ounce of skepticism he had. But another part of him was saying something different as he walked away. Something he hated to hear, even from himself. Because he could not fight the simple truth that they did indeed have a job to do, and to allow this, even this, to stand in the way of that job, might be suicide on a global level.

And, the small voice also asked, even more quietly now, what would Neal or Ayala be willing to do to him if he really tried to stand against them?

As that thought began to turn over inside his mind, his stomach churned as if stirred by it. He knew that this could not be allowed to pass. He knew that he could not be a part of an organization that did this.

But, in truth, he had no idea how to stop it.