Split Second (31 page)

52

Jenna and Blake were given shots
to reverse whatever knockout agent had been used on them, and the effect was
immediate and dramatic, bringing them back to full alertness.

Their wrists were locked
together with hardened plastic strips, ratcheted into place, and they were led
at gunpoint to the room they had seen on their television screen at the Best
Border Inn, the office of Edgar Knight.

The building they were in was twenty-two
stories tall and it was magnificent: modern, bright, and reeking of opulence.
Once a luxury hotel, several of the floors had been converted into luxury
offices and apartments. Many others had been torn out and turned into havens
for scientists, complete with individual offices, conference rooms, virtual
reality rooms where inventors could immerse themselves in virtual 3D
representations of their work, and expansive labs—biology, physics, chemistry,
electronics, artificial intelligence, and so on—each packed with the most
advanced equipment and technology money could buy.

Along with an office that
appeared to be the electronic nerve center of an empire, far more extensive
than they had glimpsed during their call, Knight’s twenty-second-story
residence was a lavish penthouse apartment that took up the entire floor,
thousands of square feet in space, and one that would satisfy the most spoiled
of high-rollers. The outer wall of the entire floor was a single seamless
window that looked out upon several shorter buildings nearby and a land bridge
that carved a path across a soothing blue body of water. The floor plan was
open and expansive, with magnificent arches leading to bedrooms, a kitchen a
professional chef would envy, and even a small indoor pool and Jacuzzi.

Knight’s lackeys led them to
four steel chairs at one edge of the office area, spaced at about five-foot
intervals, bolted to the floor. The chairs clashed horribly with the modern
decor, introducing a psychopathic prison-warden vibe into the otherwise sophisticated
elegance.

They were seated, their legs
were tied firmly to the chairs with unbreakable nylon straps, ratcheted tight,
and their hands were freed. Knight thanked his four underlings and they quickly
exited, leaving him alone with his two prisoners.

Knight studied them thoughtfully
for several long seconds. He was most fascinated by the Army Ranger turned PI.
He didn’t look special in any way, but his file suggested he could not be more
formidable. Appearances really could be deceiving.

“Jenna Morrison and Aaron
Blake,” he said in delight. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I can’t help but be
disappointed that you didn’t accept my generous offer and come in on your own.
But I guess you’re here now anyway.”

He gestured to the chairs on
which they were bound. “When I knew you were coming, I had these built
especially for you.”

Blake nodded toward the two
empty chairs beside him. “Having a problem with your math?” he said.

Knight shrugged. “You never know
when two extra chairs might come in handy.”

“How long were we out?” asked
Blake.

“Six hours.”

“Where are we?” demanded the PI.

Knight considered. Since he had
made certain they were checked for bugs and homing devices, there was no reason
not to tell them. “You’re on an island in the center of Lake Las Vegas.”

 
“Lake Las Vegas?” said Jenna. “Is that some
kind of weird joke?”

“No. Why shouldn’t there be a
giant man-made lake in the middle of a desert?” he said wryly.

Jenna and Blake exchanged
confused glances, but this wasn’t the time to get a real estate lesson.

“So Hamilton was working for you
all along?” said Blake.

“Yes. I hadn’t been all that
impressed with him, actually. Until today.”

“Where are the others we were
with?” said Jenna.

“I’m afraid they’re all dead,”
replied Knight matter-of-factly. “Including my old friend Lee Cargill,” he
added, this time with great satisfaction.

“No!” whispered Jenna in horror.
“All of them? But why? They were
helpless
.”

“I didn’t want to be Q5’s enemy,”
replied Knight. “After all, I’m the person who created it.” He shook his head.
“But they’ve made it their mission to kill me. So forgive me for not getting
all weepy about it.”

He pulled up a chair and sat
down, six feet away. Banks of large monitors around the room displayed the
whereabouts of various members of his organization, security perimeters, and other
information in a never-ending barrage, but he only had eyes for Jenna and Blake.

“I was not happy to learn you
had sided with Q5,” he said. “A poor choice.”

“Who told you we were on their
side?” asked Blake, as if this couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Brian Hamilton.”

“Then Cargill lied to him,” said
Blake without hesitation. “Cargill was trying to convince us to join him, but
we were keeping an open mind. We actually wanted the chance to speak with you,
get your side of the story, before we made up our minds. If you would have told
us the score on the phone instead of lying to us, we might have been more
receptive to your point of view.”

“Butchering helpless men isn’t
winning you any brownie points either,” spat Jenna.

“First of all, I don’t care anymore
if you come to my side or not. I intend to get Nathan Wexler’s file from you,
willingly or otherwise. And I would never butcher helpless men. When you’re
being stalked by a lion and you chance upon him sleeping, you kill him. The
difference between me and Lee Cargill is that I’m willing to make tough
choices, own up to tough realities.”

Knight rose and put his arms
behind his back, causing him to take a forward-leaning posture. “Compassion is
great. I’m all for it. But if we let it paralyze us from making rational,
logical . . .
necessary
decisions, we
deserve to go extinct as a species.”

“Just the opposite,” said Jenna.
“Compassion will make sure we
don’t
go extinct.”

Knight laughed. “Spoken like a
true head-up-your-ass idiot,” he said. “If
everyone
were compassionate, this would be true. But there are ruthless people in this
world. People who relish the idea of Armageddon and are moments away from
having the means to make this happen. Compassion in the face of that is
suicidal, which is the exact path we’re on. You’re like a stalk of wheat in a
wheat field saying to your compatriots, ‘compassion and love are the answer. If
we just show that approaching cloud of millions of locusts how caring we are, I’m
sure they’ll leave us alone.’”

“I agree with you in many ways,”
said Blake. “I do. But the answer isn’t setting one man up as absolute dictator.”

“Why not? Right now we have
democracies in the world, but we also have any number of countries run by
dictators and worse. Irrational, power-hungry people, with only their own
interests at heart. At least with me running the show you’ll have rational
decisions.”

“Like sterilization of anyone
below a certain intelligence level?” said Jenna.

“Yes. First you wipe the barbaric,
destructive extremists from the planet. Simple decision, just like I made with
your friends in the transport truck. Kill them, or they’ll kill you later.
These terrorist types are great at begging for
your
mercy, appealing to
your
compassion, until the moment you’re stupid enough to let them off the mat, when
they destroy you with a ruthlessness you can’t comprehend. Believe me, they
won’t show you any compassion or mercy, even a second after you spare them.”

Knight sighed. “As for controlling
the coming swarms of unintelligent, ignorant masses, it’s been said before that
the Earth is a spaceship, and we’re its passengers. Our planet is a tiny lifeboat
in a vast ocean universe. But our boat is getting overcrowded and taking on
water. When the crewmembers who aren’t capable of bailing any water reproduce
ten times faster than those who can, it doesn’t take a genius to see that the
boat will eventually sink. It’s only a matter of time. And I’m not advocating throwing
these crewmembers overboard. Just making sure their endless progeny don’t
overwhelm and eventually suffocate the able-bodied members of the crew.”

 
Knight was surprised that Jenna Morrison didn’t
have a visceral and immediate negative reaction to this view, shouting out her
objections. Perhaps, on some level, she knew he was right.

“Rational decisions and
compassionate decisions are often at odds with each other,” he continued.
“Sometimes rational decisions seem cruel. I can’t help that. As a compassionate
society, we thin herds of animal species, because we see the perils that
overpopulation presents to them. We burn overgrown forests in a controlled manner
to save them from the devastation of an
uncontrolled
fire. But we refuse to treat our own species with the rationality with which we
treat others.”

“I’m sure the Unabomber prided
himself on his rationality too,” said Blake bitterly.

Knight laughed. “The difference
is, I know I’m rational. The truth is, not many people are. They think they
are, but they’re fooling themselves. People like you are horrified because I
make decisions based on logic rather than emotion. For me, it’s all in the
math. A train is about to hit and kill five innocent people. Say you have the
power to divert it at the last second, saving these five, but this diversion
will kill your mother. Do you do it?”

Knight waited for several
seconds. The strained look on the faces of both prisoners, and their failure to
answer immediately, was telling.

“Of course you do,” he said.
“One versus five. The logic is simple. I can make this kind of decision easily,
so I’m a monster. You can’t, which is why you need someone like me running the
show.”

Blake sighed. “I have to admit,
I don’t entirely disagree with what you’re saying.”

“Good try, Mr. Blake, but I just
wanted to give you my side of the argument. I’ll never believe you agree with
me at this point. Your hesitation in answering my train question gives me all
the information I need. I’m willing to do what I have to do to save spaceship
Earth. If that means dicing a thousand innocent people into tiny cubes, then
that’s what I’ll do. I won’t enjoy it. I’ll wish it wasn’t necessary. But I’ll
always keep the big picture, the math, in mind. Kill a thousand, save the
world.”

“Cargill told us you were
suffering from delusions of grandeur,” said Jenna disdainfully. “He was dead on
about that.”

“My grandiosity is a fact, not a
delusion,” said Knight in amusement. “I
am
extraordinary. And I’m under no delusions about the fate of our species if
drastic measures aren’t taken. It’s easy to bury your head in the sand, think
compassionate thoughts while the world burns, avoid making the tough choices.
It’s hard to face up to the ugly truth, and the unpleasant decisions this forces
on you.”

“So what do you want with us?”
said Jenna.

“You have a copy of Wexler’s work
in the cloud. I want you to open it, give it to me, and then destroy it, along
with your fail-safe.”

“That cloud file doesn’t exist anymore,”
said Jenna. “We destroyed it when we joined Cargill.”

He raised his eyebrows. “That’s
interesting. I could have sworn you began this session by telling me you still
weren’t a part of Q5.”

Jenna remained silent.

“I know the file still exists,”
said Knight angrily. “Hamilton wouldn’t have exposed himself to get you here if
he didn’t know it was still active. Seems that Cargill was very clear on this
at his recent briefing. You know, the one he had the day before Hamilton blew
him away.”

“So does cruel taunting count as
rational?” said Jenna. “Maybe killing him is rational, if you’re convinced he’s
determined to do the same and it’s preemptive—maybe. But how does sadistic
gloating, rubbing salt in our wound, count as rational?”

“Because
everything
I do is calculated,” replied Knight immediately. “Taunting
can be used to intimidate, to make you fear what I might do. To make you believe
I probably am sadistic, so you’ll cooperate with less resistance.”

“Well calculate
this
,” snapped Jenna with a fierce
glare, “we’re not getting that file for you. Period. We’re both prepared to die
before letting that happen.”

Knight smiled. “She didn’t
really check that with you first, did she, Mr. Blake?”

“That’s because she knows me
well enough to know I agree.”

“Yeah, I know you well enough,
too. You’re obviously the strong link in this chain. But Jenna here . . .” He
shook his head. “Not so much.”

Jenna couldn’t completely hide
her fear but managed to maintain her resolve. “With this much at stake, I’m
going to prove you wrong. We all have to die sometime,” she added stoically.

“So let me guess, you’re
prepared to die a thousand deaths in support of your cause.”

“Yes,” said Jenna.

Knight issued a command to his
PDA and less than a minute later two guards entered his penthouse suite,
leading two additional prisoners into the room, their hands bound and both of their
mouths sealed with gray duct tape.

Jenna’s eyes nearly burst from their
sockets.

The first prisoner she
recognized immediately: Nathan Wexler. Alive and looking surprisingly well.

The second prisoner was a woman,
one she realized she knew, but whom she couldn’t quite place.

When she did, bile rose in her
throat, and the world began to spin around her.

Because the second prisoner was
Jenna Morrison.

53

“Nathan?” said Jenna, turning to
the first prisoner.

He nodded, and this was all it
took to send a flood of tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Let’s hold off on the joyous
reunion until I get these two situated,” said Knight. He motioned to his men, who
deposited the new prisoners in the two empty chairs and bound their legs as
well.

“Should we remove the tape from
their mouths?” asked one of the men.

“No, leave it,” Knight
commanded, and then waved them away. “Thanks, that will be all.”

As the guards left the room,
Jenna turned to Knight, tears still dripping down her face. “How?” she asked
simply.

“Come on Jenna. See what
emotions do to a person. You are so much smarter than that.”

“You duplicated him. Duplicated
us
,” she added in horror. “But when?”

“Now that is a more intelligent
question. About three months ago. He’s part of what I call my Brain Trust. It’s
a little initiative I’ve developed to duplicate the best minds in the world.”

Blake frowned. “Cargill told us
you fantasized about copying the Einsteins of our age. We should have known you
wouldn’t wait to get started on this.”

“No time like the present,” said
Knight with a grin. “That’s a bit of a time travel joke, in case you didn’t
catch it,” he added.

Both prisoners continued to
glare at their captor, in no mood for humor.

“The truth is,” said Knight, “my
Brain Trust initiative has already paid huge dividends. These people have made
breakthroughs that are truly stunning.”

“But how did you manage to copy
us?” said Jenna, finally regaining full control of her tear ducts.

“Carefully,” said Knight. “Very
carefully. I’ve built a collection of eighteen-wheelers with time machines inside.
We deploy two trucks for each target, one with a device and one without. My men
mark off range and distance in the nearest empty field or parking lot. You two
were sleeping like babies when they broke in and gassed you. Once you were
completely out, they put you in the truck containing my device and parked
fifty-eight feet from the other truck, in the proper orientation. I triggered the
device remotely, and voila, a copy of each of you.”

Blake nodded slowly. “Then your
men just returned them to their beds, and they awoke, none the wiser.”

“Obviously,” said Knight, “since
she clearly had no idea any of this happened. My men are supremely talented at
this task and have done this repeatedly around the country, with equal success.
Right now the operation is limited to North America, but so many brilliant
scientists from overseas visit this continent this hasn’t posed much of a limitation.”

Knight sneered. “I’m sure
Cargill told you all about duplication strategies such as this,” he added, “no
doubt using his favorite example, Kim Jung-un. The difference is, Cargill is
too weak to actually do it. Another idiot who blathers on about slippery slopes
while our ship is hitting an iceberg.”

Jenna stared into the eyes of
her double, into her own eyes, and shivered—both versions did so at the same
time. “I get why you wanted Nathan. But why did you duplicate
me
?”

“I’m nothing if not practical,”
said Knight. “I want these scientific titans to have the best work environment
possible, the most conducive to clear thought. Men and women both tend to
perform better when they’re getting laid, genius or no. And when a man is in
love, like Nathan, forcibly removing him from the object of his affection
almost guarantees lack of cooperation. Members of my Brain Trust are prisoners,
yes, but their cages are gilded. Most love being here despite themselves. Where
else can they focus their genius without need to raise money, and with
absolutely no distractions? Where else can they work with others as brilliant
as themselves? I’ve gathered the most brilliant minds, working on the most
challenging problems, with unlimited access to any equipment they desire, and
within the best lab facilities in the world.”

Jenna turned away from her
double and locked her gaze on Nathan Wexler. “I’ve missed you so much,” she
said, her eyes becoming moist again. “I love you,” she finished.

Wexler’s glance shifted from
Jenna to the gagged version of Jenna—the woman with whom he had lived the past
three months—and back again. His eyes were now moist as well and he nodded his acknowledgment
of this sentiment, unable to speak, and clearly unsure how to process this impossible
situation.

“So if you have Nathan Wexler,”
said Blake, “why do you need his file? Your Wexler has the identical mind and
capabilities of the other. Surely this Nathan Wexler can come up with the same
discovery.”

“You’d think,” said Knight, showing
a flash of anger. “But apparently not. And I even have the advantage of being
able to put more than one of him on the problem.”

 
“How many others of him are there?” whispered
Jenna in horror.

“Eight,” said Knight. “Each with
their own Jenna Morrison to screw at night,” he added bluntly. “I wanted more,
but I have to be practical, and if eight aren’t doing the trick, more probably
won’t either. And because they each know the importance of what I’m after, and
each are head-up-their-ass pacifists, they have more incentive to escape than
any of the others. You know, nothing drives one like a grand cause.”

“And none of the eight have
solved it?” said Blake.

Knight frowned. “No. They are
all Dr. Wexler, possessing the same extraordinary genius of the man who made
the breakthrough, but none of them experienced whatever random catalyst set
this brilliance on such a revolutionary path. I’ve come to appreciate that this
isn’t all that surprising. Because creativity is a fickle bitch. Who knows what
one random occurrence sparks a eureka moment. Alexander Fleming discovered
penicillin because one of his plates of bacteria accidentally became
contaminated. A million Flemings couldn’t have discovered antibiotics without
this key event.”

He paused. “If you copied a
hundred Einsteins, only one would have come up with relativity. Why? Because
the others would be in different environments. Any Einstein in a university
environment would have worked on other problems, and would have been restricted
in his thinking by the status quo, would have been discouraged from ideas that
seemed insane.

“Only Einstein the patent clerk
would have come up with relativity. First, he was free of academic shackles.
Second, it just so happened that he worked on patents having to do with the transmission
of electric signals and electrical-mechanical synchronization of time. Both of
these are key ingredients in the thought experiments that led him to his
radical conclusions.”

“So you can access endless Nathan
Wexlers
,” said Blake, “but not the one you need. Ironic
isn’t even the word for it.”

Knight ignored this jab. “There
was a chance they weren’t really trying,” he said, “or had found what I was
looking for but didn’t want me to have it. So I tortured a few of them to death,
just to be sure. Turns out they were telling the truth.”

Nathan Wexler couldn’t move his
mouth, but his eyes conveyed absolute revulsion.

Knight smiled. “That’s the
beauty of having different versions of a person,” he said. “It really lets you
be creative. Some you can treat like kings. Others you can bully and torture.
And you get to see what inducement is more effective. This man here has been treated
like a king and had no idea there were other versions of himself working on the
problem, or getting tortured to death.”

“You are a sick, demented sadist!”
spat Jenna, acid dripping from her every word. “You don’t know what sparked
Nathan’s breakthrough, but you know for
certain
it wasn’t torture. Yet you did it anyway. But I’m sure you had a rational
reason for what you did, right? Because you aren’t a pathetic psycho, you’re
the paragon of rationality.”

“I wasn’t trying to spark a
discovery. I was making sure they weren’t holding out on me.”

Blake shook his head in disgust.
“But in that case—”

“
No more discussion!
” interrupted Knight, rising from his chair.
“It’s time to cut to the chase.” He faced the Jenna he had captured that
morning. “So what do you say, Jenna? I need that file. But I’m willing to make
this easy on all of us. I’ll offer you the deal of a lifetime. Get me that
file, and I’ll reunite you with the man you love.”

“This is all so . . . wrong,”
said Jenna. “What you’re doing, what you’re planning to do . . .” She paused,
searching for the right words. “It’s atrocious. It’s
grotesque
. I’m more certain than ever that I won’t help you.”

Knight turned toward the gagged version
of Jenna Morrison, drew a gun, and shot her twice in the chest. She fell
forward, held to the chair by her legs, as blood poured from her body and
collected in a widening pool around her chair.

Jenna and Nathan Wexler both
screamed at the same time, although Wexler’s screams were muffled by the duct tape
covering his mouth.

“That’s better,” said Knight
calmly. “No one wants to share their man, after all. Even if the person they’re
sharing with is themselves. So now that he’s all yours, Jenna, how about it?”

“You are the sickest bastard who
ever lived!” screamed Jenna, on the edge of hysteria.

“I’m just a man willing to do
what’s necessary to save the species,” said Knight, as though he expected to be
congratulated. “And as for you,” he added ominously, “you did say you were willing
to die a thousand deaths before you would help me.”

He nodded at Jenna Morrison’s dead
body. “Well, good news—you just might get that chance.”