There was no way back. No way back on either front.
Conflict is inevitable, Shu had said after their dinner. You have to decide if you're on the side of progress… or of stagnation.
I'm on the side of peace, he'd replied, and freedom.
I hope I did the right thing, he thought to himself.
Only fools are always certain of themselves, Ananda had told him.
He glanced at Sam to his left. She was staring out into the landscape, watching the line of dawn crawl down the mountain and onto the plains.
It was a wonder she didn't hate him. She of all people understood the dangers of what he'd unleashed on the world.
Sam spoke without looking at him. "I'm in no position to judge, Kade. You did what you thought was right, what you thought would help people most. I guess right now… I guess that's as good as anything."
Kade smiled faintly. She'd picked up on his thoughts again. It was happening more and more often. With all they'd been through together, with the hours of meditation every day and night…
"It's beautiful," Sam said.
Kade smiled.
"You're sure you don't need me?" she asked.
He took her hand with the one that remained to him. "Feng is coming with me," he answered. "With luck, the Chinese think he's dead. And you did what Wats asked. You kept me safe until I released Nexus. That's what he wanted. He thought it could save the world."
Neither of them said anything for a time. They sat, hand in hand, and watched the sun rise higher into the sky.
"Let's hope he was right," Sam replied.
It was time to go.
Sam helped Kade down from the wall, put his left arm over her shoulder, helped him hop over to the vehicles, to where Feng was waiting.
Ananda had kept them safe thus far. They'd given their statements to Thai National Intelligence. Ananda had pulled strings to keep them out of jail, out of the hands of the army or the police. That wouldn't last. Even his friendship with the King had limits. It was time to move on.
Sam helped Kade take a seat on the lowered gate of the old pickup. Feng was there. He hugged Sam, and to Kade's surprise, Sam hugged back.
After a long moment, Feng pulled back, kept his hands on her upper arms, looked her in the eye.
"You'll be OK?" he asked.
Sam nodded. "Becker's dead. The UN's in an uproar. There are hearings being scheduled in Washington. They won't come after me for a while. I'm safe for a bit."
Feng nodded. He hugged her again. They held each other for a moment, and then separated.
"Take care of that one," Sam said, gesturing at Kade.
Feng grinned. "You got it."
Kade accepted Feng's help into the bed of the truck. The Chinese ex-soldier tapped on the glass at the rear of the cab, shouted something in Thai, and off they went, on a long and bumpy ride towards the border with Cambodia, and from there to destinations as yet unknown.
Sam watched them go until they rounded a final bend in the mountain road and were lost from sight.
She turned and faced south. There, near a tiny village on the border with Malaysia, there were more children like Mai. That was where her road led now.
She turned back to the east, stared into the dawn. After all these days of rain, the sun felt good on her face. Sam closed her eyes, took a deep breath of the clean morning air, and went to meet her own transport south.
BRIEFING
VIDEO TRANSCRIPT : A Final Thought : Ilyana Alexander
Recorded Sunday February 19th, 2040, 1.18am,
Simonyi Field, California
<Ilyana Alexander faces the camera. She is wearing a pale green dress with a gauzy purple scarf around her neck. She speaks with a slight Russian accent. Electronic music and sounds of voices are heard in the background.>
If you're watching this video, then I haven't been able to reach the net for at least seven days. I'm dead, imprisoned, or disappeared, most likely at the hands of the US government.
My parents brought me to the United States of America when I was ten. They were fleeing the fascism that had taken hold in my native Russia. They chose the US over all other nations because they viewed this country as the world's leading pillar of freedom, of individual liberty.
That was then. This is now.
<Alexander looks down, shakes her head.>
The "crime" for which I've been disappeared is that of attempting to give people tools with which to empower themselves. In the America of 2040, that's no longer a welcome activity. Our so-called leaders and their bureaucrats have drawn lines around what it means to be "human". Anyone who steps beyond those lines is by definition no longer a person, no longer endowed with inalienable rights, no longer protected from the whims of those in power.
<Alexander shakes her head, keeping her eyes on the camera.>
This is the same logic of inhumanity that's been applied in the past to slaves, to women, to Jews, to members of any group which those in power wish to persecute. Every attempt through history to limit the definition of humanity has been a prelude to the subjugation, degradation, and slaughter of innocents. Every one.
By drawing a box around humanity, those in power are telling each of us what we can and can't do with our minds, with our bodies, and in the interests of our children. They're saying that they're smarter than we are, that we need their protection from ourselves.
Needless to say, I disagree.
Power is best when it's distributed most broadly. That's what democracy means. That's what freedom means. The right to determine your individual destiny belongs in your hands, and no one else's.
The laws that limit human capabilities are exercises in control. They stem from fear – fear of the future, fear of change, fear of people who might be different than we are, who might make themselves into something new. The result of this fear is the corrosion of our liberties, the corrosion of our right to determine our own futures, to chart our own destinies, to do the best we can for our children.
That corrosion has consequences. If you're watching this, it's had consequences for me.
<Alexander sighs.>
Parts of our government are empowered by the Chandler Act and other laws to target, spy on, arrest, jail, and even murder Americans and foreigners accused of taking their destinies in their own hands, in complete secrecy, without a jury, without any due process except one of a handful of National Security Court judges, all of whose names are also secret.