“Honey,” Ethan said gently. “Let’s go.”
She looked at him, fury shining in her. Ethan flicked his eyes downward to where Violet slept. Amy caught the gesture and swallowed whatever she’d been about to say.
“Can we put our shoes on?”
“Coulda. Before you mouthed off. Now you just get your little one and get out.”
Amy shook her head, then bent down and picked up their daughter. She squirmed and started crying. Ethan’s right hand tingled, the gun seeming to pull at it.
You’re not a criminal. All the man wants is stuff. If you can walk out of here without violence, do it.
Jeremy followed them up the stairs, the shotgun leveled.
At the front door, Amy turned to him. “You said grace last night.”
“So?”
“So God damn you.” She turned and strode out the door. Ethan wasn’t sure if he’d ever been more in love with her than he was at that moment. It made him want to yank out the gun and blaze away, to shoot until he was out of ammo and then stand over Jeremy’s body and keep pulling the trigger.
Instead, he followed her into the night. Thinking, It’s not about you. It’s not about feeling like a man. It’s about being one.
That means doing whatever it takes to protect them. Whatever it takes.
CHAPTER 23
It was no Air Force One, but Cooper had to admit the diplomatic flight was a pretty nice ride.
It had been a fun morning, lit with a simple sweetness. Apple pancakes in the skillet, the Stones on the stereo, his children spazzing, high on sugar and excitement. They’d gone to bed expecting the dawn to bring a day like any other, and instead, hours later, here they were playing tag in the sky. The jet had leather seats, integrated tri-d, a fighter escort, and a steward happy to bring them all the Coke their parents allowed.
“Hey, Todd,” Cooper called. “C’mere.”
His son dashed down the aisle, sweating and smiling. Cooper tapped the window. “Check it out.”
Obligingly, Todd pressed his face against the glass. They’d started their descent, and from this height, Wyoming looked like cake left too long in the oven. Near the horizon, almost out of view of the window, something glowed silver and white. “What is it?”
“That’s Tesla. The capitol of New Canaan. It’s not the only city, but it’s the biggest. It’s where Erik Epstein lives.”
“Is he really that rich?”
“Yup.”
“Everything looks like it’s made of mirrors.”
“That’s solar glass. It captures energy and keep the insides cool.”
“Oh.” Todd looked up at him with a grin. “Too bad. A city of mirrors would be cool.”
It was one of those weird moments of discordance, a sense of greater meaning. Cooper found himself staring at his son, a thought rising unbidden. A city of mirrors. He’s not far from right.
If ever there were a place that reverses everything, this is it.
Their reception in Tesla was certainly a different experience than the last time he’d arrived, three months ago. That time he and Shannon had snuck in with false papers, worried every moment they’d be caught.
This time there was a motorcade waiting, guarded by a security team. Instead of the heavy limousines favored everywhere else in the world, the motorcade was made up of tear-dropped electric vehicles and sleek ATVs. Gasoline was one of the many things the Holdfast had to import, and it was correspondingly expensive.
As for the security team, they were young even by military standards, ranging from sixteen to maybe twenty-two. Their lightweight desert fatigues were made of active camouflage, the fabric patterns shifting and morphing as they moved. Despite their youth, he could tell they were good; they moved as a single unit, covering every angle without needing to speak to one another. He didn’t recognize the assault rifles they carried, some sort of NCH newtech with rounded curves and plastic stocks. When did you start manufacturing weapons, Erik?
“Ambassador Cooper.” The woman who met them had the willowy beauty of a runway model but not so much as a whiff of sexuality. “I’m Patricia Ariel, Mr. Epstein’s communications director. On behalf of Epstein Industries, welcome to the New Canaan Holdfast.”
Ambassador. That’ll take some getting used to. “Thank you,” he said. “This is Natalie, and our children, Todd and Kate.”
“Welcome. If you’ll follow me, I’ll see you to your residence in the city.”
Cooper said, “Epstein couldn’t make it?”
“He thought you’d want to get settled first. Shall we?”
Hmm. Cooper hadn’t expected the real Erik Epstein—he probably never left his cave—but his brother Jakob should have been here. It was a snub, and a bad sign.
The car wasn’t as heavy as President Clay’s ride, but it was comfortable, with leather seats and broad windows. A privacy shield separated them from the driver. The motorcade started rolling immediately, engines humming softly.
“Mr. Ambassador, this isn’t your first visit to the Holdfast, correct?”
Cooper shook his head. “But my family hasn’t been here before.”
“Well, as you know, we’re corporate-held land, custom designed from the ground up . . .” Ariel continued talking, and he patterned her while his family enjoyed the tour. She was smooth and polished, but every so often a rounded consonant crept in, and he figured her to be from the Boston area. Probably a tier two, he suspected memetic based on her speech patterns, and definitely not academy-raised. He imagined her parents were loving and still married, proud of their daughter but not residents of the NCH. Sunday phone calls and e-mails about seeing her on the news, polite inquiries into her social life met with polite deflections.
Once he had figured her out, he turned his attention to the view. The airport was small, two runways for jets and a handful of glider paths. Todd oohed as one took off, a hydraulic winch a mile away yanking the carbon-fiber plane into the sky. Cooper remembered riding in one with Shannon, felt his stomach lurch. He didn’t mind heights, but airplanes without engines were another matter.
Outside the boundaries of the airport, they passed a huge solar array, tens of thousands of black panels stretching into the distance, all of them perfectly aligned and bathed in sunlight. Traffic was light, and though the motorcade moved without sirens, they rarely slowed down. One of the benefits of building a world from scratch, traffic patterns could be anticipated, roads built wide enough to avoid congestion. He wondered if Ariel ever thought of Boston, the antithesis of everything here: an old city by American standards, confusing and crowded, horse paths turned into streets, winding mazes instead of neat grids.
“What’s that?” Todd pointed at a complex of domed structures on a ridgeline, the silver sides open to the wind.
“Moisture condensers,” Ariel said. “We harvest water from the wind. This is the desert, after all, so water is always a concern. You may find showers a little strange . . .”
He tuned back out, his mind returning to the Oval Office. Last night had been close. Cleveland on fire, and the president comatose while his secretary of defense practically staged a coup. If Clay hadn’t snapped out of it, this morning abnorms all over the country would be getting shipped to internment camps as troops descended on the Holdfast.
Cooper’s last-second save had bought a little time, but only a little. Now he somehow had to convince Erik Epstein to abandon his deliberately neutral posture and throw his support fully behind the US government—a government that was at that moment drawing up plans for an attack.