Stones (Data) (71 page)

Her voice trembles. “In your other pocket.”

His left hand digs into his jacket and folds around the Stone. A long breath of air escapes from his lips, and he relaxes again, shoulders falling down to the bed. “Did you follow my instructions?”

“Yes.”

“To the letter?”

She looks around the room and speaks in a whisper. “To the letter. I was the first one to your side and found the other Stone near the wall, a few meters from Naganuma, under some debris. I picked it up with the tool and put it into your pocket. Then I put your own hand into the pocket and made sure your skin was in direct contact with the Stone before allowing anyone to touch you.”

“Did
you
touch it? Even for a second?” Ryzaard draws in another quick breath of air, and his chest rises. He studies her face, searching for the truth.

“No, absolutely not. I had nano-gloves on the whole time. As per your instructions.”

“Good girl.” Ryzaard’s chest relaxes, and he tries to raise himself up.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood. They say you should be dead. They say you’ll need multiple transfusions and extensive reconstructive surgery. The knife went in deep and did a lot of damage.”

“Nonsense,” Ryzaard says. “Just give me a few minutes and I’ll put myself back together. Make sure we are alone.”

Before Jing-wei can move to the door, a middle-aged nurse with a crisp white uniform and bright red hair in a bun enters, silent as a snake.

“I thought I told you to leave.” The nurse shoots a glance at Jing-wei. “This man is about to die. He must be prepped for surgery immediately.”

Ryzaard looks up at Jing-wei and makes no attempt to whisper. “Get her the hell out of here. I am not having surgery. This is nothing more than a flesh wound. I can heal it myself.”

“The patient is experiencing a hallucinatory reaction to massive blood loss.” The nurse approaches the bed. Her face thrusts itself into Ryzaard’s view and looks directly at Jing-wei. “I’m sorry,” she says in an obvious attempt to speak in a gentle tone. “The knife went in deep and opened up a major artery. The internal hemorrhaging will eventually result in hypovolemic shock, which I don’t expect you to understand. Long story short, he’s in danger of immediate cardiovascular collapse.” She reaches across Ryzaard and clamps down on Jing-wei’s arm, her voice shedding any attempt at civility. “You are going to leave now.”

“But—”

“If you don’t comply, I’ll have security here in thirty seconds.” The nurse reaches into her pocket and pulls out a stainless steel jax that looks more like a scalpel than a communications device.

Ryzaard reaches up and grabs Jing-wei’s other arm. “Don’t let this butcher touch me.”

Jing-wei looks down at Ryzaard and winks. She turns back to the nurse and forces a smile. “I was just on my way out.” Moving away, she picks her purse up off a nearby table and walks around the nurse to the door, heels clicking on the hard floor.”

“Do
not
leave me,” Ryzaard says.

The nurse’s eyes follow Jing-wei with a cold stare all the way to the door.

When Jing-wei reaches out for the handle, the nurse turns her attention back to Ryzaard.

Dropping her fingers into her purse, Jing-wei pulls out a short silver tube with a protruding needle. She pivots, swinging her hand. The needle rams into the back of the nurse’s neck.

She immediately collapses to the floor.

Jing-wei shuts the door. “We don’t have much time, maybe ten minutes before she wakes up.”

“I only need five,” Ryzaard says. “Now help me get my hands on this wound.”

Four minutes later, he opens his eyes and pulls back his hands. “That should do it. Good as new.” Still dressed in the remnants of his tweed jacket, he raises himself up into a sitting position and wipes the blood off his palms onto the bed sheet. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” He bounds off the bed and walks to the door, followed by a wide-eyed Jing-wei. Then he stops, as if he had just remembered something important. “Where’s my Boker?”

“Your what?”

“My Boker. The dagger. I always carry it with me.”

Jing-wei looks frantically around the room, overturning chairs and knocking over a lamp. Her eyes fall on a crimson stained towel wrapped around a long skinny object lying on a tray by the sink. “Here it is.” She picks up the towel. The blade falls out onto her bare hands, leaving a red smear. Drawing her hand back, the dagger drops to the floor with a clang.

Ryzaard rushes to her side and picks it up, wiping it on the towel. “Let’s go,” he says, gripping the dagger as if he’s about to turn and thrust it into the nearest person.

Outside the door, another nurse walks briskly down the hall toward them. Her eyes move across Ryzaard’s body, and come to rest on the knife in his hand. Eyebrows rise high on her forehead. “Dr. Ryzaard, where are you going? They’re waiting for you in surg—”

“As you can see, I am fully recovered.” He parts his dirty jacket and pulls up the blood-soaked shirt, exposing a belly devoid of wounds, and shoots a glance at Jing-wei. “Buddhist faith healing. I thank you for what you have done. Now, with all due respect, I must leave now. Urgent business calls me away.” He walks a few paces down the hall and then turns back to the nurse, still standing open-mouthed in the corridor. “I believe your colleague is experiencing a bit of light-headedness. She is resting in the room. You may want to check on her.”

They leave the hospital through an emergency exit on the bottom floor, triggering alarms and flashing lights. A black limousine is waiting at the curb with an opened back door. Ryzaard and Jing-wei slip inside.

The instant the door shuts, the car shoots forward.

“I’m afraid Matt got away, and Jessica too,” Jing-wei says. “We tried to follow the others, but—”

“Quiet,” Ryzaard says. “I need time to complete the bonding.” He takes both Stones out of his pocket and holds them in his bare palms, focusing intently. “And I never want to hear their names spoken in my presence again? Is that understood?”

“Perfectly.” Jing-wei rests her head against the back cushion and looks out the window at the buildings speeding past them. After a couple of seconds, her body relaxes into the seat and her eyelids drop down and close.

K
ent feels the bone-crunching bumps in his spine. He estimates he’s been riding for six hours, all of it in darkness in the back of some ancient cargo transport. Judging from the speed of the truck and the constant jarring of the floor, they are traversing a pothole-infested country road, far away from the city. The IR goggles have long since slipped from his face, and there is nothing but blackness around him.

The slow, relaxed breathing of other bodies floats in the silence of the dark. He wonders how they can sleep.

“Is it OK to have a light now?” He raises his voice and addresses the question to no one in particular.

“Sure.” A young voice pierces the void. “Just a micro, right?”

“Yep,” Kent says. “That’s all I’ve got.”

He reaches into his backpack, rummages around and feels for a thin metallic card at the bottom. As soon as he rests a thumb on it, the light comes on. It only takes a few seconds to make a quick inventory of the inside of the pack.

“Where’s the rest of the MEPPs? I thought I had two left.” He pulls the micro light out and shines it into the darkness around him.

A young man sitting directly across from him looks up. “We used one to blow up the entrance to the elevator shaft and threw the other one in the East River as we crossed the bridge. We don’t want to be caught with any evidence. And they’re too dangerous to have in here, anyway. It’d probably blow the whole transport sky high from all the shaking.”

“You read my mind.” Kent looks around at the inside of the transport. The sweet smell of fresh apples floats in the stale air. Dozens of large boxes sit heavy on pallets a few meters away,
Fresh Produce
printed on their sides. Five young people huddle on each side of the truck, backs up against the side. All but the young man across from him are asleep.

“Don’t worry. They’re used to it,” the youth says. “We spend a lot of time riding around the country like this.”

“Doing what?” Kent twists his back and tries to find a comfortable position.

“Whatever Little John wants. I guess you could say we are his elite corps, his shock troops. He turns to us for difficult jobs that require special skills.”

“Like scaling buildings and extracting hostages?” Kent sees the ropes and harnesses scattered around.

“Exactly.”

“Just one question. How did you guys know I was in the MX Global building?”

“Easy. The Children have been tracking you round the clock ever since you left the freedom camp on the Colorado plains. Little John’s orders.”

“The Children?”

“That’s what Little John calls us,” the youth says. “Even though most of us aren’t kids anymore. He says we are the future.”

“The future of what?”

“The human race, I suppose. After the
Abomination
is destroyed.”

Kent rolls his eyes. This was just what he needed, to be rescued by a bunch of religious fanatics. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere out in Iowa, I think. Only the driver knows for sure. Little John will be waiting for us. He says we have to take good care of you and keep you safe.”

“What about all my stuff?” Kent said. “I left a lot of equipment in my office back in New York.”

“We checked it out and destroyed most of it, except for what we might be able to use. Don’t worry. It’s just more
Abomination
. You won’t need it where we’re going.”

“Great,” Kent says. “Now I’m
really
off-grid.”

M
att lays the chopsticks down on the table, leans back and pats his stomach. “Delicious, no?”

“
Oishii yo
,” Jessica says. “I never knew you were such a good cook.”

Matt has a stunned look on his face. “When did you learn Japanese?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Jessica looks up from her
miso
soup. “I know how to say
delicious
in at least ten languages. Don’t you?”

“Nope. But maybe you can teach me.” Matt walks around to the other side of the table and sits down on the
tatami
floor next to her. “The perfect end to a perfect day,” he says. “Skiing in the morning, swimming in the afternoon, sushi and a nice bonfire on the beach. And my mom’s
gyoza
for a midnight snack. All with you.” He leans his back against the wall and slips both arms around Jessica.

She lets her weight fall on him. “It’s incredible, all this. I keep asking myself how you do it.”

“Good question,” Matt says. “I ask myself the same thing.” He runs his fingers through Jessica’s hair and looks out the oversize window of the Japanese house at the thin sliver of the sun, crimson red and still hanging just above the watery horizon far off to the west where it’s been for the last several hours. “When we made the jump, I was thinking of a day on the beach with my mom and dad back when I was seven or eight. It’s burned into my memory as the most perfect day of my life. I’ve been chasing that feeling ever since, but it’s always just ahead of me, never quite in my grasp. After the jump, I opened my eyes and here we were, on the beach. Just like the one in my memory.”

“And that feeling,” Jessica says. “Have you found it here?”

Matt relaxes back on his elbows. “Yes. But it’s not because of the beach. It’s because you’re here.”

The Stone lies on the table between them, filled with a milky glow. Jessica holds it up in the fading pink light of the setting sun, turning its claw shape around in her fingers. “But what about the ultra gargantuan mountains here covered in snow, rising above a primeval forest that looks like the original Eden?” she says. “There are plants here that don’t exist back on Earth. Fist-sized grapes. Peanut butter-flavored bananas. And this charming little Japanese house on the beach. Where did all this come from?”

Matt smiles. “My imagination. Naganuma told me that every Stone is connected to a planet in some random corner of the universe, and every Holder, when they’ve progressed enough, gets pulled there to create his own private world. Naganuma’s world had perfect Japanese gardens and groves of giant cedar trees. He had a house like this one. You saw Ryzaard’s world with its dark rivers and geometric cities. I guess this is mine. Right out of my imagination.”