Continuance (11 page)

But even in its sameness, the
view was also different. His vantage point from the lower observation deck of
the Angeles Spire – 94 floors above street level – caused some of the
differences and enhanced others. The ocean had never been so clearly visible
from the heart of downtown, the air so crystal clear. A thicket of shiny high-rise
buildings covered the hills above Hollywood where only trees and expensive
homes had stood before. And it felt wrong to be looking
down
on the
Library Tower’s roof, now a hover pad rather than a helipad.

Even with the changes, though,
the view brought a sense of calm. As he stared out across the city, he felt a
connection to it, a kind of kinship that he hadn’t known before.
It’s a lot
like me
.
So much the same, but so much different. Old, but also brand
new.

“Jason?”

He turned at the voice behind him
because he knew he was alone up here, and that it could be meant for no one
else. Not because the name felt like something he should answer to. Not because
it felt like his own. That would take some getting used to, yet.

A doughy man with a stubbly beard
and ponytail emerged from the circular bank of elevators in the center of the
observation deck. The last person he’d expected to see was the tech guy, Alex. Tech
Guy probably wasn’t his title, if he even had one, but that was how Jason
thought of him, anyway.

Turning back around, Jason gazed
at his image in the mirrored railing under his hands, waiting for the other man
to approach. Like his name, the face Jason saw reflected there was foreign.
Blond hair had replaced brown. Green eyes had replaced blue. Young had replaced
old. Yes, some similarities remained, if you knew where to look. The face might
have belonged to a distant cousin or half-brother. He accepted it, not because
it looked like him, or because he recognized it, but because it moved when he
moved, blinked when he blinked.

Another pair of hands appeared on
the railing beside him. “I didn’t think you guys were supposed to be out here
before dark,” Alex said.

You guys.
Is that how it
would be from now on? You. Us.

Jason gave a derisive snort.
“Look, I may have come back from the dead, but I’m not a vampire. Who’s going
to notice me up here, anyway?”

As if in reply, a vertical blur
of motion whipped past a dozen feet away. One of the lift cars that ran the
height of the spire along grooves inlaid in the building’s skin. Alex seemed to
pay it no mind. “Hey, not my rules. No skin off my nose.”

Though restricted to the
Chrysalis facility hidden on the floor below during the day, they had told Jason
he could come up and visit the observation deck, so long as it was under cover
of darkness. As far as he was concerned, dusk was close enough. He’d been
cooped up here, like Rapunzel in the tower, for two months. But that was about
to end. He’d been through what amounted to a crash orientation on the year 2087
and was due to be “reintegrated” tonight.

“See that building over there?”
Jason pointed at the Library Tower. “I used to work there when I was a young
man.” A mirthless laugh escaped his lips. “The
first
time I was a young
man.” He held his hands in front of his face, examining them the way he did at
least a dozen times a day now. Smooth, unblemished skin. No wrinkles. And they
were strong
.
Strong the way they had been, strong in the way he’d
forgotten. “I guess it must have been about seventy years ago, now. Window
office with a view and all that.”

Alex said nothing, staring out at
the horizon. Even though dark was fast falling, he wore those computerized
sunglasses of his, each dark lens reflecting the thin crescent of the drowning
sun. Jason had never seen the man without them.

“For a long time, it was the
tallest building in the west. Before
this
thing.” Jason gestured to the
floor beneath them. “Back when they built it, it was called the Library Tower.
Later on, it had other names. They’d name it after some bank or whatever
corporation happened to occupy the space at the time. Companies that were just
passing through, on their way to the oblivion of some eventual merger or
insolvency. Then they’d just plaster the next name on it.”

With a whoosh, another lift car
zipped past, too fast to make out anyone inside. “But now, it’s called the
Library Tower again. Surprised me when I learned that. It’s like it had some
sense of its own identity. No matter what people labeled it, it was always the
same, just standing there waiting for people to recognize it. Makes me happy
for some reason.”

Alex seemed to consider that for
a moment, deep in thought. “You know, there’s a nudie bar not far from where I
live called The Library. Makes me happy, too. Every Wednesday night.” The
corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile.

Jason chuckled. “I can imagine.”

Alex leaned an elbow on the rail.
“The thing is, Jason – or Patrick – or whoever – I’m pretty sure it’d make me
happy no matter what they called it. The way I see it, labels don’t mean much. It’s
the content that matters.”

Jason smiled at the ground before
looking back to Alex. “You sound like a wise, old man. Shouldn’t that be my
job?”

“Nope. Not anymore. It’s your job
to sound eighteen, now. Be a kid again. You need to fit in if you want to
survive down there.” Alex inclined his head toward the tiny grid of glowing
streets below.

Jason followed Alex’s gaze. And for
this first time since he’d awakened in this new world, he allowed himself to recognize
something. A feeling that had been growing inside him ever since he’d learned
what lay ahead for him. Fear. Having acknowledged it, he crushed it, setting
his jaw. “I can do that.”

But his voice sounded small in
his ears, barely loud enough to carry over the breeze. The last sliver of the
setting sun had disappeared beneath the water, a faint glow on the horizon the
only evidence of its passing.

“Don’t worry,” Alex said. “They say
being eighteen again’s like riding a bike. I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it…kid.”

Maybe
. But that
promised to take even more getting used to than the new name and face. “Did you
know I was one of the first to sign up for the stasis protocol? I made the
arrangements by the time I was thirty, way before it was as simple as checking
a box on your social security form. So I always hoped I’d come back.” He leaned
both hands on the rail, looking down. “I just never imagined it’d be like this.
The movies always make life on the run or being undercover look so glamorous,
but I have a feeling it might get old. Even if I’m not.”

When they’d told him the first
time, he hadn’t believed them. Continuance was outlawed. It was illegal for him
just to be here, living and breathing. He’d have to live as a fugitive, maybe
for the rest of his life.

“Would you rather they hadn’t
brought you back at all?” Alex asked.

“No.” The answer was easy,
immediate. “No, given the choice, this is still the best option. And I’m
grateful.”

“Glad to hear that. Chrysalis
thinks the same thing. That continuance, even under these circumstances, is
better than oblivion.”

Alex fished something from the breast
pocket of his black overcoat. “They told me you asked about someone specific. Someone
you left behind. I did some poking around and wanted to give this to you.” He
handed Jason a small, transparent chip. In the center, it carried the Chrysalis
butterfly symbol in orange and black.

“What is it?”

“It’s a genome. Michelle
Baxter’s.”

Jason looked at the piece of
plastic in his hands. At
her –
at least the physical part of her – in
his hands. What could he say in response? “Thanks.”

Alex gave a gracious nod.
“Without her neuromap, it’s not much more than a souvenir, but I thought you
might want a copy.”

 Jason snorted a quiet laugh,
still looking at the chip.

“What?” Alex asked.

“The picture. Monarchs were a big
deal for Michelle. She loved them. I guess she wasn’t the only one.” Jason had
seen them almost everywhere around the facility – on doors, uniforms, even the
cloning tubes they used for continuance. “Who came up with the idea, anyway?”

Alex shrugged. “The butterfly? I
think it was one of the Chrysalis originals – a founder. If it were up to me,
I’d have picked something a little edgier. Like a nice, fire-breathing phoenix.
Or maybe a cheap tire.”

Jason laughed. “Haven’t you
heard? It’s insensitive to call us retreads.”

“Fine. But you can keep your
butterfly.” Alex gave him a lopsided smile. “We should head downstairs. They’re
probably waiting for you.”

Jason nodded. They’d scheduled an
exit interview of sorts, after which he’d be on his own. With a last glance out
at the skyline, he turned and headed for the elevator, Alex falling in beside
him.

“Something tells me you went
above and beyond to get me this,” Jason said. “Why? Why do any of this? You’re
not continued. Are you looking for someone, too?” The elevator opened, and he
tucked the disk away in the front pocket of his jacket.

“No. Not someone. ” The look Alex
gave him as they stepped in was considering, as if he were sizing up a race
horse and hadn’t decided whether to put money down on it yet. “More of a some
thing.
You’ve got a lifetime’s worth of experience behind you. Right now, that isn’t
much different than my grandma and her friends down at the bingo parlor. But…”
He held up a pointed finger. “It will be. What would a person with three
lifetimes of experience be capable of? A dozen? More? I want to find out.”

2089

“You okay out there, Jason?” The
voice sounded faint, coming from the speakers inside the helmet lying in the
passenger seat. It had only been a few seconds since his slide from the track,
but the car was already getting hot as the desert heat seeped inside. Jason
switched his com link over to the car’s audio system.

“Yeah, Ty, I’m fine. Just came in
a little hot through the turn. I’m headed back in.”

Jason left the helmet where it
was, slipping on his smartglasses instead, then restarted the car and pulled
back onto the track. He set a leisurely pace, cruising in front of the empty
stands that lined the final straightaway, and pulled into the pit area. A young
man with reddish hair and a shiny, backward ball cap greeted Jason as he killed
the engine and rolled down his window.

 “Knight’s gonna get a warning
for that shit. Sorry about that, man.”

“The guy in the Tesla?” Jason
shook his head. “Don’t sweat it. He’s just some punk kid.”

Ty laughed. “That’s funny, man. Craig’s
Knight’s like five years older than you.”

Focus, Jason.
Too many slips.
“Fine.
You’re the punk kid, then.”

“I thought you had that corkscrew
down.” Ty leaned down, shaking his head as he eyed the length of the dusty car.

“Guess I’m just not up to this
today. Thanks for the track time, anyway.”

“Nice power slide out there, fossil
fuel.” A bulky guy with spiked black hair strolled up, white helmet beneath his
arm. “They make training wheels for that antique? Might help you corner a
little better.” He plopped the helmet down on Jason’s hood. “I thought you said
this guy was good, Ty.”

“He is.” Ty shot Jason a
disappointed look. “Usually.”

“Too bad,” Knight said. “I was
kind of looking forward to a challenge next time out. Maybe we can spot you a
couple of turns for your outdated ride.”

Jason’s blood boiled. He’d like
little better than to take this guy down a notch. But he’d made a decision. The
spiders were too close. It was time to disappear. “As fun as that sounds I can’t
make it.”

Ty wilted. “Can’t make it? Why
not?”

“The training wheels are on
back-order. See you, Ty.” Jason squealed the tires, sending Knight’s helmet
tumbling to the pavement as the M3 took off.

A mile outside the speedway, he found
himself staring at the animated sign by the freeway onramp. Beside the arrow
that pointed west, a list of cities scrolled past. Long Beach, Los Angeles,
Anaheim. Everton. He floored the pedal, taking the ramp headed east.

He’d laid in a course on the
local system that would take him as far south as the border when the new
message indicator flashed in his smartglasses. He eyeclicked into his inbox,
puzzled as he saw a message with the improbable subject, “NEW! Andra Almond Exel!!!.”
The message hawked a prescription-strength almond extract formula
scientifically proven to provide life-changing sexual enhancement. There was an
attachment.

Probably
scientifically proven to hijack my AP.

He was about to delete it as junk
when something made him stop.
Andra Almond Exel.
Without thought, part
of his mind
focused,
rearranging the letters.

oldmAnAlExander.

Old Man Alexander.

Jason decrypted the attachment.