System failure, p.4
System Failure, page 4
“What did she say?” Akane glanced up.
“She had to leave,” said Eva, shrugging. “Quickly. She didn’t have time to explain. But she knew there was something to this.”
Akane’s brow furrowed. “That’s not like Sarah. She’s been really helpful before.”
“Not her fault,” said Salome quickly.
Akane arched a puzzled eyebrow. “How come?”
Taking a deep breath, Salome explained the scene outside Mikael’s office, the argument, the hasty exchange at the helipad. “Your dad kind of lost it, John,” she said guiltily. “I’ve never seen him like that. He was furious at something Sarah had done or something she’d said to him.”
“He had Salif throw her straight off the island,” confirmed Eva. “Well, fly her off it. In a helicopter. You know, he did not actually throw her.”
“I don’t understand.” John looked more thoughtful than surprised, thought Salome. “This was after the assembly? It must have happened right after I saw her. And all she was doing was interviewing him for some backslapping Man of the Year thing in that Alaskan Star celeb rag. How could she have made him so mad, so fast?”
They stared at one another, perplexed.
“You know, I kinda don’t care,” said John at last. “If she was fighting with my dad, she had a good reason. I’m pretty sure if I started asking the right questions, he’d lose it.”
“Or the wrong questions,” mused Akane.
“Nobody wants to say it.” John stood up. “Because I’m sitting right here. So I tell you what: I’ll say it.” He took a breath. “I’m not sure we can trust my father. And neither are any of you.”
Akane looked at the blanket on Slack’s bed. Salome blushed. Eva glanced expectantly around them all.
“No,” blurted Akane at last. “John, I know what you mean,
and he’s maybe got good reason for concealing something from us. He always does. But I do think there’s something he isn’t telling us.”
“Same,” whispered Salome. “Sorry, John.”
“You don’t have to apologize to me,” said John. “I said it because I know it.”
“But that means,” said Akane slowly, “that we probably don’t want him to know what we’re planning. Even though the email says to consult him.”
“I believe that email,” said John, “but it doesn’t mean I trust it or whoever wrote it. I think we need to make our own plans.”
Akane rubbed her hands together. “Yes. We’ll do what they suggest—but not the way they suggest it. How about it, Eva?”
Eva nodded. “I like this plan. I like it much better than the original. But how do we accomplish it?”
“We do,” said John, “by setting up the ultimate prank on my dad.” There was a light of bitter satisfaction in his eyes. “He’ll never know what hit him.”
“Oh, hang on,” objected Salome. “Pull the wool over your dad’s eyes? The guy who outsmarted Roy Lykos? I’m not sure that’s even possible, John.”
“Gotta agree,” said Akane.
“Oh, you’ll see.” John grinned slyly. “Put it this way: I wasn’t expelled from school in Fairbanks for picking my nose once too often. Leave the prank design to the master, guys.”
Salome gazed around doubtfully at the others. “We did outwit Roy Lykos and escape from the Scarab’s Temple,” she said. “We might be ready to try this . . .”
“More than ready,” said John confidently. “I know I can outwit my dad; I’m sure of it. And who’s the only other real threat? Roy Lykos.” He smiled. “And he’s safely tucked away in San Quentin. “We’re the Ghost Network, guys. Believe me—we’ve got this!”
How dare they . . .
Roy Lykos was not a man to display his emotions outwardly. He was so far above the rest of the population, intellectually and technologically, he could barely be described as simply human. Why should he be controlled, then, by mere human emotions?
Yet inside him, the rage and resentment seethed every bit as wildly as he imagined it had for Stone Age man.
His cell was sweltering and far too small for his liking. This prison was infamous for both its inmates and its high security; it was one of the drawbacks of the state penitentiary he’d been assigned. He hated being here—he hated being in any sort of captivity. He was not a normal criminal or prisoner. What was the court thinking, to confine a mind like his? How could they possibly understand the stratospheric heights of his plans or ambitions?
And what had his high-echelon friends been thinking when they turned their backs on him and had dissociated themselves? That was something they would certainly pay for, later. Roy Lykos’s mind was far too vast and all-consuming to allow him to forget any kind of betrayal.
However, in some ways, San Quentin was not as bad as he had feared. Roy smiled wryly to himself. It turned out that many of the nation’s most notorious, dangerous, and violent criminals—with whom he was not associated—were big consumers of technology. The inmates were as inclined as the general population to revere those who created and brought tech to them; Roy was twice the celebrity in here that he had been in the outside world.
He of all people knew the value of contacts, and here he was making new, highly beneficial ones every day. New contacts with far less scruples. Roy Lykos had never wasted time or opportunities, and he was not about to start now. His growing network was what kept him sane: knowing that every day, every conversation, every favor he granted brought him closer to revenge.
The people whom he shared his captivity with were highly useful. However, the person who could help him the most was free and as loose in the world as a lethal airborne virus. Roy laughed softly to himself. Yes, retribution would come soon, with his ally’s assistance. It pained him to rely on someone so unstable, so potentially explosive, but his needs must be met. Instability could, after all, have spectacular and entertaining results.
Mikael Laine and his brattish son would pay for what they’d done to him. Roy knew that with a clinical certainty.
Perhaps not entirely clinical, though. . . . There were moments when he positively thirsted for their blood. That was a human reflex, he didn’t doubt. But then, sometimes, human desires had their place. Roy closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and prepared himself for proper meditation. He’d learned to train himself to achieve calmness and serenity through the bloodiest of revenge fantasies, and he was looking forward to this one . . .
A brisk clacking on the cell door interrupted him. His eyes snapped open, and he barked: “Wha . . . ?”
But the door had swung open before the word had completely come out of his mouth. This was yet another irritation: the lack of respect from staff, even the ones he’d bribed. For this, too, there would be retaliation. Eventually. Right now, he found himself glaring at the prison guard.
“You’ve got a visitor, Mr. Lykos. And apparently the visiting area isn’t suitable.” The guard sniffed, barely audibly, as a shadowy figure stepped forward.
Roy did not rise. He smiled at his visitor. “Well, now. This is a pleasant surprise.”
“Good day, Mr. Lykos. You already know what a big fan I am of your work . . .”
“What do you mean, you can’t come?” Salome stared at Akane, aghast. John gave a groan of disappointment.
“I’m as upset about it as you are,” moaned Akane. She punched Slack’s mattress, and he winced. “Sorry, Slack.”
“You didn’t hurt me,” he said warily, eyeing her clenched fist. “But watch what you’re doing there. I’m still broken, you know.”
Salome patted his hand. “You’ll be better in no time. We all want you to come to the Amazon too, Slack. And Akane, you absolutely have to come!”
“I can’t!” Akane cried. “You know I want to, Salome. But I told you about the message I got this morning? My grandmother’s ill, really ill this time, and I can’t go off-grid. The Ma’yaarr Complex is miles from anywhere, and what if communication breaks down? What if I can’t leave on short notice to get to her? At least staying here I know I can get a helicopter out really fast.”
“And there’s no way my bone’s gonna recover that quickly,” said Slack firmly. “I’ll have to support you guys from this hospital bed—or from that soft beanbag chair they’ve given me to sit on at best.”
“Oh, Akane, that’s terrible luck.” Salome clenched her jaw; she could see Akane’s dilemma, and it was barely a choice at all. Salome wished that Akane’s friend’s parents hadn’t sent that message today of all days. However, some things, Salome told herself inwardly and firmly, were just more important. “But we’ll miss you so much. The team’s going to be lost without you.”
Akane shook her head. “No, you won’t. I wish, I so wish I was coming—swimming with river dolphins!—but I can’t. Like Slack says, we’ll be your contacts here.”
“Yeah.” Slack’s eyes were surprisingly bright, and his expression was quite cheerful. “And look on the positive side, Akane. The two of us will get to know each other better.”
Akane rolled her eyes. “I think we know each other pretty well already, Slack.” But she smiled down at him.
“You know, it’s not the worst idea,” said John slowly. “It could be useful to have a remote team, monitoring us from the outside. In case anything happens.”
“Nothing’s going to happen,” said Salome. “Ana’s going to look out for us when we get there, and the complex looks amazing.”
“Something’s happened both the other times we’ve left the complex,” John pointed out.
“But this is nothing more than a quest to find Eva’s parents. It’s a bit of a mystery,” insisted Salome, “but there’s nothing sinister about it.”
“Sarah Lopez might beg to differ,” said Akane darkly.
“Her reaction could have been related to anything,” declared Salome. “For all we know, she might have just been worried about how Eva and her parents will get along! It’s not like we had time to talk to her properly.”
“Just be careful.” Slack glanced from Salome to John. “And let Akane and me know if there’s any sign of trouble.”
“I promise,” sighed Salome. “But I still wish you guys were coming with us.”
“Me too,” said Akane mournfully.
“We still don’t know how we’re getting to the Ma’yaarr Complex,” Salome reminded them, with a hopeful glance at John. “The official way isn’t an option. Any developments with this ‘prank’ of yours?”
“There might be, by now.” John grinned. “Mom’s visiting the school this evening—she and Dad and I are having dinner together in his office. A nice family chat.” His smile became wicked.
“By then I’m hoping Dad’ll have heard some, um . . . some good news.”
<<>>
“It’s going to be a really good opportunity to promote the school to potential new candidates!” Mikael was in full excited mode over the grilled sea bass, and John had no intention of interrupting him. “A lot of the people attending this conference are going to be high-tech business executives. And our old colleague Yasuo Yamamoto is out of the picture and facing his own federal investigation for enabling Lykos and funding him. So the Center is going to need new sources of funding—and this is exactly the chance I’ve been waiting for! Keynote speaker, no less.”
“You be careful in Shanghai,” warned Tina, setting down her fork. “You don’t know where Roy Lykos still has operatives, Mikael. He’s still got a lot of personal loyalty with some pretty shady government people. And you know China’s going to be looking for a way to connect with you and your technology.”
“I’m fully aware of that, and I’ll see it coming,” he reassured her. “I’ve got my own Chinese contacts, and they’re not all beholden to the government—whatever the government thinks.” He laughed. “Believe me, Tina, this is a really exciting opportunity. And I can take advantage of the trip to visit the Center in Zhejiang province. It’s only about four hours’ journey from Shanghai.”
“I think it’s gonna be great, Mom,” said John. “Don’t worry—Dad can handle it. You should see the way he holds an audience captive. He’ll come back with about ten new sponsors, I betcha—” He couldn’t keep a straight face any longer and had to clamp his mouth shut over a forkful of sea bass.
Oh, it was going to be a great imaginary conference. Zhou Zhou, their former fellow student at the Scarab’s Temple, knew just how to make an enticing online brochure—and he was very good at finding the right names to headline an international tech event in China. Even John almost believed the lineup when a copy of the slick invitation dropped into his inbox. The conference sounded exactly like the kind of event where his father should be promoting the Centers, raising funds for scholarships, and recruiting potential new wealthy students.
It was a pity the Shanghai Convention for Technical Education existed only in the minds of himself, Slack, and Zhou. But wasn’t this what his dad had wanted all along—a resourceful son who could create complex projects out of nothing but code? John suppressed another snicker.
Mikael shot him a surprised glance, and John turned his laughter into a polite cough.
“So when do you leave, Dad?” he asked.
“Day after tomorrow,” said Mikael. “Seems I’m a replacement speaker for someone who couldn’t make it, but I’m not complaining! There’s going to be a lot to organize.”
“I can help with your keynote speech, if you like,” offered John.
Mikael’s eyebrows shot up, but he smiled and nodded. “That would be great, John! I’m in need of some slightly more up-to-date jokes, am I right?”
“You bet,” grinned John.
A twinge of guilt rippled through his stomach. His father’s eyes were warm and grateful, and his mother looked genuinely delighted that the frosty atmosphere between the two had dissipated.
Still, John wasn’t about to tell him the truth—not now. When his father found out about the deception he’d created, that would be soon enough to feel guilty and accept his punishment. Getting him, Salome, and Eva off this island was way more important than his father’s trust, at least for right now. The rest would have to be rebuilt over time.
And it wasn’t like Mikael didn’t deserve a little betrayal after everything he’d put him and his mom through. John widened his smile, suppressing a glimmer of remorse.
<<>>
—Dad’s getting Howard McAuliffe to fill in for his teaching commitments, John told Zhou, with a conspiratorial grin toward Slack.
—Can’t say I’ll be sorry to miss those lectures! 😂
He and Slack were sprawled on their beds, MindReaders installed behind their ears. It was almost like having a private conversation with Slack, except for the dry, amused, and emoji-free responses from the other side of the world. Zhou’s voice was as clear and precise as it had always been; it felt like there was some kind of invisible ghost in the room.
—McAuliffe probably won’t even notice you’re missing,
indicated Zhou.
—John says Mikael fell for it completely, grinned Slack.
—Great work on that invitation and the website, Zhou!
—Yeah, said John, shaking off that ugly sense of guilt again. —We owe you one, Zhou Zhou.
—Oh, you owe me a lot more than one, pointed out Zhou
wryly. —Who got you out of the Scarab’s Temple before it exploded?
—Fair point, laughed Slack.
—We’ll raise a tropical toast to you when we get there, Zhou. John winked at Slack, who groaned with regret and longing. —Amazonas, Brazil, here we come!
The rear compartment of the military helicopter was horribly cramped and hot, but the worst part was the racket of the engine. By the time the rotors slowed and stopped, Salome was convinced she was deaf in one ear.
She signaled to John and Eva. OK.
The helicopter crew had almost completed their landing routine. She could hear them now, laughing and chatting as they strode away across the landing pad.
“Anchorage.” Salome risked saying it out loud, and her voice sounded strange and echoey in her ears. “We made it.”
Eva wriggled in her cramped space and began to elbow the metal panel between them and the cargo bay. “I can’t wait to get out of here,” she muttered.
“Worst flight ever,” growled John, trying to stretch his shoulders. “But I’m glad we did it. Dad had no idea we were here the whole time. He must be nearly at the gate for his flight to Chicago by now. Eva, you can hit that panel harder. Nobody’s around anymore.”
Eva shot him a resentful glance, but she was the only one of them who could reach it in the cramped space. Taking a deep breath, she slammed her arm against the panel one last time, and it popped out with a resounding clang. Fresh cold air flooded the compartment, and all three gasped at once.
“Oh, that’s lovely,” moaned Salome. She wriggled out after Eva and stood up, stretching her muscles.
“I think both my legs have fallen asleep,” complained John.
Salome dragged him out by his ankles, and he rolled out, then staggered to his feet. “Your dad really was excited about this conference,” Salome remarked. “I feel kind of bad.”
“Don’t. If he wasn’t so self-obsessed, he might’ve actually noticed three stowaways in the supply chopper.” John rolled his eyes.
“The flight from Chicago to Shanghai is nearly twenty hours with connections,” said Eva. “We’ve got plenty of time to disappear before he realizes what’s happened.”
“Yes, but from here to Manaus is going to take nearly a day, with the connections,” pointed out Salome anxiously. “If he guesses we’re on our way to Brazil—”
“He won’t,” John flatly assured her. “He has no idea about what we have planned. Like I said: self-obsessed. He’ll probably have assumed all along that Eva would come straight to him to arrange any trip to the Ma’yaarr Complex. Once he catches on, he’ll know we’re gone, but he won’t know where. Zhou booked the flights, and I think he must’ve pinged the booking requests at least twice around the world to hide their origins. Even Dad won’t trace the source quickly.”
