The gun was the ultimate proof that she had been at the hotel. The Tabula would never believe that a Harlequin would deliberately give up a weapon. If the police discovered the gun, it would be registered in their database and the Tabula computers that were searching the Internet would detect it immediately.
Maya was rumpling up the sheets and blankets when she heard a faint click in the outer room. Someone had pushed a key card into the door lock and now he was opening the door.
Her right hand touched the sword case. She had the Harlequin desire to attack-always attack-and destroy the threat to her safety. But that wouldn’t accomplish the true goal, to confuse the Tabula with false information. Maya glanced around the room and saw a sliding glass door that led to a balcony. She drew the stiletto and approached the curtains; it took her a few seconds to cut two strips of fabric.
The floor creaked in the outer room as the intruder walked softly across the carpet. Whoever was outside the bedroom door paused for a few seconds and Maya wondered if he was gathering the courage to attack.
Carrying the strips of curtain, she pushed open the sliding door and stepped onto the balcony. Warm desert air surrounded her. The stars hadn’t appeared yet, but green-and-red neon lights flashed in the street below. No time to make a rope. She tied both strips to the railing, then went over the side.
The curtains were made of thin cotton and unable to support her weight. As Maya lowered herself, one strip ripped apart and broke away. She dangled in the air, holding on to the other strip, then continued her descent to the next floor. A voice from above. Maybe he saw her.
There was no time to think or feel or be afraid. The Harlequin grabbed the iron railing and pulled herself onto a balcony. Once again, she drew the stiletto and saw that she had cut the palm of her hand. Damned by the flesh. Saved by the blood. She pulled open a sliding glass door and ran through an empty room.
46
One of the reasons Michael enjoyed living at the research center was the way that the staff seemed to anticipate his needs. When he returned from the barriers the first time, he had felt fragile and dazed, not quite sure about the reality of his own body. After a few medical tests, Dr. Richardson and Lawrence Takawa brought him up to the first-floor gallery to meet General Nash. Michael asked for orange juice and they had returned five minutes later with a six-ounce cardboard carton, probably taken from a janitor’s lunch box.
Now he was back from his second experience crossing the barriers and everything was prepared for his comfort. On a side table in the gallery was a glass carafe of chilled orange juice. Next to that was a silver tray displaying fresh-baked chocolate-chip cookies as if a team of apron-wearing moms had been making preparations for his homecoming.
Kennard Nash sat opposite him in a black leather chair and sipped a glass of wine. When they first started their conversations, Michael was surprised that the general never took notes. Now he realized that the surveillance cameras were always working. Michael enjoyed the fact that everything he said and did was so important that it had to be recorded and analyzed. The entire research facility was dependent upon his power.
Nash leaned forward and spoke softly. “And then the fire started?”
“Yeah. The trees began burning. That was when I found a path that led to a town in the middle of nowhere. All the buildings were burning, too.”
“Was anyone there?” Nash asked. “Or were you alone?”
“At first I thought the town was empty. Then I walked into this little church and saw my brother, Gabriel. We didn’t talk to each other. He was going through a passageway that probably led back to this world.”
Nash pulled a cell phone out of his suit-coat pocket, punched a button, and spoke to Lawrence Takawa. “Copy the last five seconds of our conversation and send it to Mr. Boone. He needs this data as soon as possible.”
The general snapped the phone shut and picked up his glass of wine. “Your brother is still a prisoner of a terrorist group called the Harlequins. Obviously, they’ve trained him to cross over.”
“Gabriel was carrying our father’s Japanese sword. How is that possible?”
“Our research indicates that certain objects called talismans can be carried by a Traveler.”
“I don’t care what they’re called. Find one and get it for me. I want a weapon when I cross over.”
General Nash nodded quickly as if to say, Whatever you want, Mr. Corrigan. No problem. We’ll arrange it. Michael leaned back in his chair. He felt confident enough to make his next demand.
“That is-if I decide to visit the different realms.”
“Of course you will,” Nash told him.
“Don’t threaten me, General. I’m not serving in your army. If you want to kill me, go right ahead. You’d be losing the most important element of this project.”
“If you want money, Michael-”
“Of course I want money. But that’s trivial. What I really want is full information. The first time we met you told me that I was going to help you achieve a technological breakthrough. You said we were going to change history together. Okay, now I’m a Traveler. So why do I have wires in my brain? What’s the point of all this effort?”
Nash walked over to the side table and got a chocolate-chip cookie. “Come with me, Michael. I need to show you something.”
The men left the gallery and strolled down a hallway to the elevator. “All this started several years ago when I was in the White House and developed the Freedom from Fear program. Everyone in America was going to wear a Protective Link device. It would have ended crime and terrorism.”
“But it didn’t work,” Michael said.
“At the time, our technology wasn’t that sophisticated. We didn’t have a computing system capable of handling that much data.”
As they left the building, two security men followed them across the quadrangle at the center of the research compound. The air was cold and damp and a dense cloud concealed the night sky. Michael was surprised to see that they were headed for the computer center. Only special technicians were allowed inside.
“When I assumed leadership of the Brethren, I began to push for the development of a quantum computer. I knew it would be powerful enough to solve complex problems and handle enormous amounts of information. With a bank of quantum computers, we could literally track and monitor the daily activities of everyone in the world. A few people might object, but most of us would gladly give up a little privacy in exchange for security. Just think of the advantages. No more deviant behavior. No more unpleasant surprises-”
“No more Travelers,” Michael said.
General Nash laughed. “Yes. I’ll admit it. Getting rid of people like the Travelers was part of the plan. But that’s all changed. Now you’re on our team.”
The security men remained outside when Michael and Nash entered the empty lobby of the computer center. “An ordinary computer runs on a binary system. No matter what the size or power, it has only two states of consciousness: 0 or 1. Ordinary computers may work very fast or in tandem with each other, but they’re still restricted to these two possibilities.
“A quantum computer is based on quantum mechanics. It seems logical that an atom can spin up or down: 0 or 1. Once again, it’s a binary system. But quantum mechanics tells us that an atom can be up or down or in both states at the same time. Because of this, different calculations could go on simultaneously and at great speed. Since a quantum computer uses quantum switches instead of conventional ones, it has an immense power.”
They entered a windowless cubicle and a steel door closed behind them. Nash pressed the palm of his hand against a glass panel. A second door glided open with a soft whooshing sound and they entered a dimly lit room.