Silhouette (27 page)

Saul had also hoped that Darien and I would pass his rigorous tests and become the ones to inherit his kingdom, so he'd planned for us to live atop this impenetrable fortress, from which we could rule the Bay Area (and the world, if necessary). It filled the mountain underneath our house, stretched to the one underneath D's, and was replete with concealed hillside aero bays, communication and intelligence capabilities surpassing even those in the castle, and enough lab room to house all our classified research.

Of course, this was why the old man had not wanted us to visit the property while the house was being built.

“A
man
came up with this idea, right?” was all Lynn had said, concerned about how living on top of all this might affect the family that we planned to start anew. Min assured her, on behalf of Saul himself, that her life needed to be no different, and that she and hers would actually be safer here than anywhere else.

The big bodyguard could speak on behalf of Saul Rabin because Saul Rabin was inside him. Prior to the old man's death, much of his memories, knowledge, and experience had been transferred to the cyborg's neural capacitors (the wireless wetware in his brain). This was the end goal and result of Saul's Legacy Project, after he had rescued it from Paul's deviant designs and continued its development in secret. The old man had wanted his legendary leadership skills and irreplaceable life experience to be available for his successors, to assist us in the formidable challenges we would face. In this way he would live on beyond death, proving useful to generations yet unborn. According to Min, he could even
talk
to us by way of an artificial-intelligence construct—a rather morbid option that I wasn't yet ready to use.

I did, however, learn much from the memories Min now carried in his head.

I don't know if I'll ever understand all the old man's thinking and purposes, but here's what I could piece together: Saul had learned about Paul's Machiavellian schemes shortly after D's murder, and had let them run their course. He wanted to see if guilt and regret from committing such a horrible crime might possibly bring his son back to his senses, and he wanted to see if I was truly a capable replacement for both of them. So he tested me, first by allowing me to be victimized by Paul's lies, then by subjecting me to the pressure of the summit meeting, and finally by inviting me to the showdown with Paul in the penthouse. He could have skipped or stopped any of this, but he hadn't, because he'd been looking at the big picture of the future of his empire.

If Paul's lie had caused me to lose my composure completely, and I had killed myself or Saul, I would have proven that I was unsuited to be his heir. If I hadn't been able to overcome the obstacles placed before me that night, then Saul would have known that I didn't have what it takes to become one of the most influential and powerful men in the world.

On the other hand, if I triumphed against all odds, the old man would consider me a worthy successor. I had, and so he had. He had been pulling my strings and putting me through some unpleasant paces, but my feelings toward him were mixed because of the way it all turned out. In fact, now that I understood at least some of his plan, a degree of my former admiration for him had returned, plus a personal indebtedness for where he had taken me. At least I had to admit that Saul Rabin seemed to embody one of his favorite maxims, that the greatest men are the ones who make the most difficult choices. Or, as someone else once said, “Risk and destiny are synonyms.”

One thing Min was not able (or willing?) to tell me, and which I looked forward to asking Saul's “ghost” when I felt ready to talk to it, was why he had chosen to groom
me
as an heir to his empire. I was far from the most intelligent or experienced candidate, so I sensed that there was something more to this than I was aware of at this point, something hinted at by his cryptic comment about my being the “true peacer.”

But regardless of the reasons for the destiny that had been scripted for me, I was ready to embrace it, and really seemed to have no choice but to do so, in light of the epic resolution the old fox had engineered on my behalf. He had turned on the cameras in the penthouse and on the roof prior to our final confrontation with Paul, and everything they had recorded was routed to the cache in Min's head for safekeeping. So earlier today, Lynn and all the world leaders who came for the service were able to see, with their own eyes, Paul's confession and my subsequent heroics. Most important, they watched as every ounce of favor and respect that Saul Rabin had ever earned was transferred to me, when he willingly gave up his life to save mine.

Justification … just as if I'd never done anything wrong, and just as if I'd done everything right. And a promising future ahead—all because of what someone else had done for me. I now treasured this concept, because it felt as good as anything I had ever experienced.

As we were leaving the hill, Lynn's hand in mine, I looked back again at the row of graves, and was reminded of the pain it took to get me where I was. I had mourned them adequately, however, so now I took some comfort from the appropriateness of their final resting place. The Rabins, Darien, and the children were laid above a future home of BASS, symbolizing the fact that their lives and deaths, one way or another, had paved the way for the future. And though their passing from this world was the worst thing that had ever happened to me, I knew that it would somehow be a part of everything good that happened in the world to come.

All week the discordant notes of Mozart's
Hostias
and
Sanctus
had been playing in my head like a broken record. But today, for the first time, the sanguine strains of
Benedictus
were breaking through. It seemed that my soul was determined to finish the masterwork, like the ghostwriter of old, not willing to let it end with a sad refrain.

This day full of tears
was the dying composer's last line.

But tomorrow full of hope
is the one I want to add.

 

Acknowledgments

Many thanks to my editor, Brendan Deneen, who showed his good taste by believing in
Silhouette
and his great talent by partnering with me to make it a better book. And to Nathan and Calvin, who have done some of the same things for this project: I'm looking forward to your future!

 

About the Author

DAVE SWAVELY is a published author of four nonfiction books. He lived in the beautiful Napa Valley for ten years and now resides in lovely Chester County, near Philadelphia. This is his first novel, and the sequel,
Kaleidocide,
will also be published by Thomas Dunne Books.

 

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

THOSMAS DUNNE BOOKS.

An imprint of St. Martin's Press.

SILHOUETTE.
Copyright © 2012 by David Swavely. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

www.thomasdunnebooks.com

www.stmartins.com

Cover design by Ervin Serrano

Cover photographs by Collaboration JS / Arcangel Images and Shutterstock

ISBN 978-1-250-00149-8 (hardcover)

ISBN 9781466802674 (e-book)

First Edition: November 2012