It was hard to think straight with all the noise in the room. Tyoma tried to imagine what would happen if the general found out they had completed the project years ago, but had been lying about it ever since in order to keep the funding going for their side project. “Kostya, why don’t we just take what we have and leave? We’re so close now. We could—”
“How? It takes billions for the equipment alone. The crèches are far too big to take with us. There’s no starting over.”
Tyoma sank his head into his hands. “What do we do? We’re all old men. We’re not fit to go after this guard, even if we use the chips. And can we even trust the other guards?”
Kostya sighed. “I don’t know. But what choice do we have?”
“Quiet, please!” said Big Dima, raising his hands. Tyoma had noticed him seeming lost in thought for the past few minutes. “I just got a call from General Andreykin. He’ll be here shortly.”
Everyone began talking at once again, but Volodya’s voice cut through the noise. “Of course he was bound to hear what happened. We could turn this in our favor, perhaps.” He turned to Tyoma. “Did you ever complete that code?”
Tyoma nodded. “I’ve been adding new features at times, but it’s essentially been ready for over a month. It all depends on getting him to bite.”
Volodya grinned like a wolf, and for once Tyoma didn’t feel it was aimed at him. “I think we should let the general meet with Tyoma alone. The rest of us can figure out which cards are missing and come up with a plan for what to do next.”
Kostya clapped a hand to Tyoma’s shoulder and smiled. “I hope this works. Use a spell if you must, my good wizard!”
“I need you to join me next time,” Tyoma said, referring to their favorite sim. “I just got my ass kicked in a basilisk lair, and the AI henchmen can’t make up for your absence.”
Kostya looked rueful. “Sorry, I’ve been helping my son with something. Maybe next week.”
Tyoma thought he saw a hint of embarrassment in his friend’s face. “Vasiliy? Isn’t he close to completing his PhD?” he asked, referring to Kostya’s grandson, who had been studying neurology in order to follow in Kostya’s footsteps.
Kostya scratched his eyebrow and looked at the floor. “I thought so,” he whispered, then met Tyoma’s gaze. “He’s fallen into Meshing. I don’t even know for how long, but he’s even bought one of those damned bed’s that feeds and cleans him so he doesn’t need to snap out of it.”
Tyoma placed a hand on Kostya’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “I’m so sorry, my friend. If I can help in any way…”
Kostya nodded and dropped his eyes back to the floor.
Salt Lake City, Utah
Sunday, June 8, 2138
12:19 a.m. MDT
Marcus had tossed fitfully on the faux-leather seat during the shuttle ride from Phoenix, wireless disconnected to give him some peace from his father, but he could not sleep despite his exhaustion. He was the only passenger. It must have cost his father a ton of money to book the sleek air bus. Not that it mattered given the fortune Javier had made a quarter century ago, when he had perfected the code that finally beat the plague of viruses that had all but paralyzed the Web.
The autobus announced its arrival at the international departures terminal in Salt Lake City. As the shuttle coasted to a stop, Marcus groaned and sat up to look out the window. A row of streetlights along the edge of the parking lot provided enough light to see a thick border of ash trees. A faint glow limned their tops, the only sign of the huge capital city beyond.
Marcus rubbed his eyes, yawned, and turned on his wireless.
«About time!» Javier said. «You cut me off before I had a chance—»
«I wasn’t in the mood,» Marcus said. «I needed some time to myself.»
«Okay, I understand. But we need some time for planning before you land in Moscow.»
«I turned you on again, didn’t I?» Marcus scowled, stood, and swung his father’s battered traveling case off of the overhead shelf.
«I ordered a chip for you. You can pick it up at the check-in desk.»
«Chip?» Marcus said. «What do I need a chip for? The Web has—»
«I’d have to filter everything to you. The interface is smoother, which is what you need for translations.»
«Russian?»
«Da.»
Marcus stepped off the shuttle and handed the bag off to the roboattendant standing to the right of the door.
“Mr. Saenz, the suborbital will depart as soon as you are ready.” The robot had a soothing female voice. “Please follow me to the departure lounge.”
The stumpy machine whirled around and rolled across the concrete sidewalk toward the brightly lit entrance.
«No people. Tell me you didn’t arrange this just for me. The shuttle was one thing, but this must have cost millions.»
«I needed to get you there as quickly as possible. Money isn’t a problem.»
«Using your own, or are you skimming from other people?»
«If I ever get to the point where I need to procure more money, I can get as much as I need without hurting anybody who doesn’t deserve it.»
«I see dying doesn’t bring higher morals with it.»
Javier chuckled. «I don’t see anything immoral about taking from bad people.»
Marcus realized it was the exhaustion making him feel argumentative, so he concentrated his sleep-blurred eyes on the stainless steel counter where the robot deposited his bag. A blue flashing light indicated where he should place his palm. As he waited for the system to check him in, Marcus looked around the small lounge. It was devoid of any sign of life other than a few potted cacti.
“Your order, Mr. Saenz.”
Marcus turned back to the counter and saw a card sitting in a sliding tray. He snatched it up and looked at the tiny lettering on one side—Russia: Language, history, laws, culture. He used the edge of the chip to scratch an itch on the back of his neck before sliding it home in his slot interface.
“Check-in complete. Mr. Saenz, you may proceed to the ship out the door to your right. Thank you for flying Amazon Air.”
The robot whisked the bag away and headed for the tarmac. Marcus followed at a leisurely pace. As he stepped into the cool darkness outside, he saw two floodlights illuminating a tall rocket half a kilometer away. A queasy feeling gripped his stomach as he thought of blasting off in that tin can and speeding halfway around the globe in less than two hours. He’d never ridden in a rocket, but he had viewed enough launches on the Web — and even simulated one once — to know that he wouldn’t enjoy this experience.
He looked at the small car waiting to take him to the rocket and decided to walk instead. Maybe the cool air will settle my stomach.
«Come to the capital for the first time and I don’t even get to see it,» he muttered to his father.
«You can see it on the way home.»
Marcus scowled. «If I get to come home.»
«How did I ever raise such a pessimist?»
«By being smarter and more famous than I could ever hope to be, and then dying just as I was beginning to think I could live with that.»
«Son, I’m sorry I left you. I really never meant to. Look at you. You haven’t set foot outside in ages. Stop a moment and look at the stars.»
«How do you know what I see?»
«You have any idea how many cameras there are in this city? I can extrapolate a lot from the views I get. I can’t get a good look at the sky, but I can tell the stars are out.»