“I was so worried about you. I tried to call you for days, but the Prophus had already changed your information. How are you dealing with everything?”
Jill bit her lip thoughtfully. “I’m not sure yet. This is so new and strange. Did you have one of these Prophus with you the entire time we were dating?”
Roen nodded. “Tao gave me the courage to ask you out. How is Baji?”
Jill held his hand and looked down at Sonya’s gravestone. “Baji seems nice enough. To be honest, she’s in worse shape than I am.” She pulled out a white rose and put it on Sonya’s gravestone and murmured a small prayer. “Baji loves you, Sonya, more than you can ever know.” She turned to Roen. “This is so much to take in. How did you make sense of any of this?”
“It took me a long time,” Roen said. “But my Prophus helped me learn who I was, and what kind of man I should be. I believe they’re here to help us. Trust them and learn from them.”
Jill hesitated. “I think I need to take some time away from you to sort things out. Baji and I need to get acquainted. Is that OK? Will you still be here when I come back?”
“I’ll always wait for you,” Roen replied, a lump in his throat. “However long it takes.” Inside, his heart broke. Just when he had gotten Jill back, he lost her again. It was more than he could bear. If she needed as much time as he did with Tao, when would he see her again? Would he ever see her again? His relationship with Jill just became another casualty of the war. It was the right thing for Jill to do though, and because he loved her, he accepted it.
She squeezed his hand and gave him a long, deep kiss. “I love you, Roen.” Then she turned and began to walk away.
“I love you.” He watched her walk up the hill. The thought of Baji telling Jill what she thought of him suddenly made him very uncomfortable. “Wait, Jill,” he said, quickly following her. “Whatever Baji says about me…”
She turned and, with her trademark bright smile, said, “Oh, Roen, if you could only read my mind.”
Devin Watson crumpled the report in his hands and threw it against the wall. How could this happen? The entire operation was an unmitigated disaster. The Capulet’s Ski Lodge fiasco had crippled their entire European operation. Already, several of their troops had been captured in a wide net thrown by the Prophus from the intelligence gathered at the base. Three factories, two stockpiles, and multiple safe houses had already been compromised. The Prophus had also taken control of two satellites! Devin looked for something else to throw.
He pounded his fist on the fine Brazilian cherry desk and stared at the crumpled paper on the floor. With a sigh, he walked to the other side of his office and picked it up. He couldn’t stand messes. His left leg ached again today, forcing him to walk with a noticeable limp. Rain must be coming. Walking back to his desk, he lit a cigar and puffed earnestly, staring out the window at the Potomac. It rained far too much this time of the year.
The Genjix hadn’t experienced such a defeat since the American Revolution. It would take decades to recover from this. With the scanner prototype stolen, the advantage that the Genjix had was effectively nullified. And now, with their discovery of the vats, the P2 ProGenesis project had been exposed prematurely.
Curse those Prophus. Damn that Chiyva! It was unlike him to be so sloppy. But then, after reading the report, Devin could hardly blame him for any of his mistakes. In most cases, he would have done the same thing.
Both Chiyva and Jeo were gone, probably captured and most likely sent to the Eternal Sea. It seemed all of them had underestimated the resolve of their wayward brethren. Well, it was one mistake that Devin wouldn’t make.
Devin. That is enough. There is no more use in thinking of the past.
“My apologies, Holy One.”
Zoras was right, as always. Devin was fortunate to have such a wise Holy One. Though he was furious with the failures, Zoras was able to see past the issue – and focus on the tasks ahead – and not allow the sins of the past to cloud his judgment. What’s done is done, Devin thought. They must now plan for the future.
There is much work to do. We need to rebuild and reorganize. I will not tolerate these temporary setbacks. Suspend all major operations in Europe until we have assessed the damage. Reroute our resources to China.
“I shall call a meeting of the Council and re-prioritize immediately.”
See to it. The Prophus conceded much during the last Accords. We should take advantage of their concessions in India.
“As you wish, Zoras.”
Resources would have to be moved out of the European Union to China through back channels. Zoras was wise to see that the lost base in Italy was only a minor setback. After all, the Genjix had an eternity. Devin put out the cigar and pushed a button under his desk. A hidden door slid open and a tall dark-haired man walked in, impossibly beautiful, with chiseled features.
“Yes, Father,” the man said.
“Enzo, prepare the plane. I want to be in China by tomorrow morning, to personally oversee the continuation of the ProGenesis at the new facility. See to it. I’m not leaving anything to chance.”
Enzo bowed and left.
Then Devin called his secretary in. He wrote several names down on a list and handed it to her. “I have an unexpected trip to take. Clear my schedule for the next two weeks. However, I need to meet with the cabinet in the next twenty minutes. I don’t care what time it is. Tell them to drop whatever they’re doing. We have a world to rule.”
She read over the list and nodded. “Yes, Senator, will that be all?”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I couldn’t have gotten this far without a small army of people (robots?) believing in me. If I miss you during my shout-outs, beers on me. Here goes…
First of all, thanks to the blurbers who liked The Lives of Tao enough to put their stamp of approval on it. You guys have paved the way for newbies like me. I won’t forget to pay it forward.
To Russell Galen, my agent who helped got this deal done. Your guidance has been invaluable and your faith in my potential humbles me.
To Amanda Rutter, the editor of Strange Chemistry, who discovered me in the Great Angry Robot Open Submission of 2011. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. To my editor, Lee Harris, who smoothed the rough edges until the story shined, it’s been so nice, let’s do it twice (or thrice). And thanks to Marc Gascoigne, Darren Turpin, Michael Underwood, John Tintera, and all the other fantastic people in the robot army, let’s go assimilate someone!
To my fellow Anxious Appliances, who climbed Mount Midoriyama alongside me, you’ve shown that writing can be a team sport. A very special thanks to my best literary friend Laura Lam, who laughed, cried, and shared angst with me every step of the way.
To my beta readers: Amber Kuo, Tiffany Moy-Kang, Michael Huchel, Rob Haines, Peter Friedrichsen, and all the others whose invaluable feedback helped shape the book. You guys kept me steering straight.
To my grandparents A-gong, A-ma, Nay-nay, you’re in my youngest and fondest memories, which I’ll cherish until the end of my days. To my parents, Mike and Yukie Chu, thanks for raising me right and letting me be wrong.
To Eva the Airedale Terrier, for dragging me out of my writing cave to see the sun once in a while.
And finally, to the love of my life, Paula, whose steadfast love and support (and editing and more editing) made this dream a reality. You deserve your name on the cover of this book as much as I do.
Tao is now insisting that I thank him as well. So thank you, Tao, for yammering in my brain all those years, demanding I tell your story. There, you happy?
Wesley Chu, Chicago, February 2013