Paradigm (32 page)

Sam stared at him. The disconnect between the way it spoke and the fact that it looked like Nathan was more disturbing than he could have anticipated.

“How long have you been in there?”

He could see Alma approaching the turn-off out of the corner of his eye. It wouldn’t be long now.

“About fifty hours. The shell tried to do some ridiculous deal with Carolyn, but she just locked him up and waited until she heard you’d taken the bait. Then she let me in, locked me in the cages and waited.”

“But why didn’t she let you out when she got me?”

“Sam, her back-up plans have back-up plans. She’s amazing. Once I’m safely in your locule we are going to have a wonderful time. So well matched. Open the box. Now.”

“No.”

“Suit yourself.”

Nathan hoisted the rocket-launcher onto his shoulder again and pivoted toward the road. Sam felt a nanosecond of stunned disbelief before every nerve in his body went into overdrive and he lunged across the narrow gap between himself and Nathan, knocking him to the ground and kicking the launcher aside.

But it was too late. The missile had been fired.

Sam watched, frozen, as it arced through the air, covering the ground between the quarry and the road in seconds before hitting its target. For a moment, it seemed as if nothing had happened, that it was a dud and everything would be alright.

But it wasn’t. There was a white flash before there was a sound, then the rolling thunder of the explosion, orange fire, black smoke, a huge crater in the road, a few pieces of metal, and a single tire rolling away down the road before slowing, tipping and falling.

Then silence.

Sam stared, stunned. He felt numb and cold. He could feel the tears on his face, though he was unaware of crying. He was unaware of anything. It was as if he were suddenly empty. A void. A hollow black space where once there had been something solid, full of hope and plans and the future.

“
That broke down your little barrier, didn’t it, boy?
”

The thing that had been Nathan was sitting up and grinning.

“
Now open my box.
”

Sam didn’t think. He just sprang onto Nathan, straddling him and raining blows onto his face, battering the smug bastard thing that was within. His head was aching again, but he didn’t care. He just hit and hit and hit, his fists becoming bloody with a dark ruby emulsion of his own blood and that of the thing that had once been Nathan.

And then something hit him. On the back of his head. Something sharp and heavy and full of purpose.

And the blackness reached up with grasping claws, pulled him down and swallowed him.

Chapter 34

T
he light returned slowly
. The first thing he noticed was his mouth. Dry and parched. Then the throbbing of the bruise on the back of his head. Then the rumble and the fact that he couldn’t move at all.

He opened his eyes. He was hog-tied on the back seat of his own car.

And then he remembered.

He closed his eyes again, but it didn’t help. It was like a movie playing in a constant loop in his head. Alma on the Norton speeding toward him, then the awful suspension of time between Nathan firing and the missile wiping her from the face of the earth. And then that feeling…no not a feeling, that wasn’t the right word. Disease. Yes, that was it. The emptiness inside him was like a disease—something real and solid, pushing against his heart, a black metastasis of love and loss and sorrow and pain and the incurable desolation of despair. His breath came in gasps and he wished that whoever had hit him had done the job right.

“
How are you feeling, Sammy?
”

Sam looked up. He could see the top half of Nathan’s face in the rear-view and was pleased to discover that he’d done a fairly comprehensive job with his fists. Both eyes were black and swollen and his nose looked broken in at least two places.

“
We were gonna sling you in the jeep, but I thought you’d be less likely to release a pulse in your own car.
”

“Talk to me out loud or shut up,” said Sam.

“
Yeah, well, that’s a bit of a problem, Sammy. You knocked a couple of my teeth out and I think I bit my tongue.”

Sam closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. He wanted it out of his head, for a while at least. But he was almost immediately hit with another searing flash of pain that made his whole body arc in agony.

“
No, no, no. Can’t let you do that.
”

Sam breathed deeply until the throbbing subsided, then lay back and stared up out of the window at the yellow sky. It looked like midday.

“How come you’re still functioning?” he asked. “Bast said the shells last thirty-six hours max.”

“
No idea. This has been a good one. I’ll be kind of sorry to see him go. He had some great memories. Some really weird ones too. One seriously messed up kid.
”

“D’you think he’ll make it?”

“
Make it where?
”

“Wherever we’re going.”

“
It’s not far. Just a few minutes.
”

“Huh. Bakersfield City.”

He closed his eyes again, but all he saw was Alma and the Norton. He opened them.

“Hey, Nathan…”

“
I’m not Nathan.
”

“Yeah, well, if you think I’m calling you ‘Mutha,’ you’re crazy. I was wondering…How come they’re all boys?”

“
The locules? It looked like more fun. Of course, that was before Carolyn Bast arrived on the planet. I think I’d mix it up a little, if I had to do it again.
”

Sam watched the sky. There were traces of smoke now. They must be getting close. And there was something else. A noise. Probably the jeep. It was behind them—he could hear the engine under the roar of the GTO. He’d have to be quick. He turned his head.

“
What are you—? No! Stop!
”

The pain crashed through his brain again, but it was too late. The jeep engine was fried and it was skidding to a stop. Nathan pulled over and jumped out. There was a great deal of yelling before he got back in. Then the sound of heavy boots on the other side of the car before Setzen climbed into the passenger seat.

“Did he do that? Did he?” Carolyn Bast’s right hand man was seriously pissed off.

“Yes, I did,” said Sam. “You should’ve been in front. I guess the great brain ain’t all that great. Or maybe the shell’s failing after all, huh, Nathan?”

“
Shut up.
”

Sam smiled. He could see Setzen’s hand curling into a fist, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered any more.

The big man twisted around to deliver the blow, but Nathan shook his head.

“No,” he said, his voice thick and rasping. “We can’t risk more damage.”

Setzen glared at him, and seemed about to do it anyway, but turned back.

“It’s the next turnoff,” he growled.

Sam closed his eyes again. A truck passed going the other way, then a car. The car sounded terrible, kind of like the Vega. He wondered where Colby was and what he was going to do with his life now. Maybe he’d travel north and become a farmer or something. Settle down with a wife and kids. Sam had never wanted to stay in one place, but plenty of people did. He wondered if the old soldier would remember the wonderful, scary girl. He wanted someone to remember. If no one remembered it would be as if she’d never existed.

“
Oh, for God’s sake, shut up! I’ve never heard such endless rambling! Who gives a flying fuck about the stupid girl?
”

“I do. Don’t listen if you don’t like it.”

“What?” Setzen looked back at Sam. “What the hell’s he talking about?”

“I’m in his head,” said Nathan. “I can hear what he’s thinking.”

“You’re what? Then…I don’t get it, why do we need the box?”

“I’m just listening in, that’s all. I can deliver a jolt or two, but it’s not like this. Not like being in a shell.”

“But the shells always die.”

“He won’t. He was designed for me. Specially made.”

It wasn’t a long distraction, but it was enough.

“Wait…,” said Nathan, looking up at Sam through the rear view. “No! Shit! Shit! Shit!” He was banging the steering wheel now like a bad-tempered child.

“Careful,” said Sam. “You’ll damage it and I don’t know where I’ll find another. Junk yards are pretty much picked clean. But you know that. Or Nathan did.
Do
you know that?”

“Shut up! Shit!”

“Told you the shell was failing. Won’t be long now.”

“What is it? What?” asked Setzen.

“He’s shut me out. Shit!”

Sam wasn’t sure how he did it. The moment up on the rock was the first time—the first time he was conscious of it, anyway. It was like raising a drawbridge against an invader. Now that he understood how to do it, it should get easier. That is, if the pulse and digital devices were anything to go by. Not that it mattered. He had a feeling that once the box was open it’d be pretty much all over.

Which was okay. He was tired and everyone he cared about was gone. Maybe the Rovers were right, after all.

The car turned off the highway and jounced over what felt like dirt track, before finding paved road again. Sam looked up. The yellow sky was dark and acrid with smoke and oil. It coated his throat and made everyone in the car cough. Nathan rolled up the window.

“Well, this pretty much sucks,” he said. “Why couldn’t we go back to Century City?”

“There’s still some mopping up to be done,” said Setzen. “And the Commander wants to meet with the locals, set up systems.”

“Huh,” muttered Sam. “Guess that’ll mean more of her lovely dinner parties.”

“Maybe. But you won’t be seeing ‘em. Or will he? Will he still be in there when you…y’know.”

“Don’t think so,” said Nathan. “I’m not sure. They were designed so that once I occupied the locule, the remaining human brain would just handle mechanics. Kind of like the brain stem does now. The shells don’t have locules, so I’m everywhere in them, which is kinda distracting. Hermes Research cancelled the program before I got to test it out. Bastards.”

The car slowed down. Sam could see fencing, broken walls and the tops of shattered buildings. A soldier leaned down to speak to Nathan, then saw Setzen and sprang to attention.

“Sir!”

“Where’s the Commander?”

“City Hall, sir. Straight down here. Grey building with columns.”

“Aren’t they all,” muttered Sam.

The car rolled forward, swerving frequently to avoid what Sam assumed must be chunks of the former city.

“How many people died?” he asked.

“It was their choice,” said Setzen. “They were given every opportunity to surrender.”

A burst of automatic fire split the air.

“What was that?” asked Nathan.

“Examples,” said Setzen. “There always have to be examples. Lets people know where they stand.”

A second burst. Closer now. Sam looked up at the smoke-filled sky.

He was in hell and he wanted it to be over.

The car turned again, then stopped. Nathan turned off the engine and sat for a moment.

“This is it, Sammy,” he said. “After all these years. Shall we savor the moment?”

“Can it and get out,” grunted Setzen.

He flipped the passenger seat forward, cut the ropes tying Sam’s feet, and hauled him out. Nathan got the box from the trunk and held it cradled in his arms like a child. They walked up the steps to the main door where two sentries stood, tense and nervous.

“Which room?” barked Setzen.

“Second floor, third door, sir!”

Setzen pushed Sam in front of him as they walked up the wide marble staircase and around a stately landing, before stopping at an ornate white door. He knocked sharply.

“Enter!”

Setzen opened the door and shoved Sam inside.

It was pretty much like the mayor’s office in Century City: all deep carpets, heavy drapes and real wooden furniture. Sam guessed that it was probably the same in every city and town hall across the country. Only the colors and patterns would vary. This one veered toward dark green with beige highlights. The windows were taller, though, and opened onto a large balcony that had probably been designed as a stage for making speeches, but now framed the destruction of the city as if it were nothing more than an old movie.

Carolyn Bast was standing behind the desk, maps and folders spread out in front of her. A group of scared-looking people clustered on the far side of the room, shifting uneasily as each tried to be at the back and out of Bast’s immediate line of sight.

Sam soon saw the reason why. Slumped in a pale green wing-backed chair was the man who had presumably been the mayor. Like Century City’s version, he tended toward the plump, though he seemed to favor a more military mode of attire. Sam winced. It looked like Bast had been working on him for quite a while—his face and clothes were soaked in blood and he was making the same small, involuntary moaning sound as the banker in Century City.

“Anything?” said Setzen.

“Not yet,” said Bast, smiling. “Ah, Sam, here you are! And Nathan…what on earth happened to you?”

“He killed the girl,” growled Setzen. “Our boy, here, wasn’t too happy about it.”

“Hagger, Dryden, get the mayor out of here. I’ll finish with him later. And have these people wait outside.”

The unhappy crowd was hustled out as the one called Hagger untied the mayor, slung him over his shoulder and followed. Bast pushed the chair aside and pulled another into its place.

“Wouldn’t want you getting your clothes in a mess, would we?” she cooed. “Untie him, Setzen, and remove the coat. Take a seat, Sam.”

Sam sighed and settled back in the chair, adopting his best couldn’t-care-less attitude. Although he did. Now that the moment had arrived.

“It’s been a very long time since anyone got one over on me, Sam,” she said. “Under normal circumstances you’d be dead by now. Or in a great deal of lingering agony, depending on my mood. But perhaps this is worse. Where’s the box?”

“Here,” said Nathan, handing it over.

Bast took it and ran her fingers through his red hair and down the side of his bloodied face regretfully.

“You’ve lasted remarkably well in this one.”

“Yeah, it was strong. It’s failing now, though. And there’s a problem.”

“A problem?”

“He got rid of the key.”

“But he
can
open it, can’t he? He was certainly able to stop me unlocking it the last time we met.”

“I could,” said Sam. “But I’m not going to.”

“You did see what happened to Dustin, didn’t you? I thought the lesson was quite clear.”

“Go ahead. I don’t care.”

He wondered if he sounded even remotely convincing. He was terrified. But he didn’t want her to see that. He wasn’t worried about the dying part, he just wasn’t sure about the stuff that would come first. That would be bad. Beyond bad. Letting Mutha into the world would be worse, though. And the rest would be over soon enough.

“You think you’re safe because the plex needs your body,” said Bast. “But there are plenty of ways of being persuasive without doing very much damage at all. If the blade is sharp enough and the practitioner sufficiently expert.”

She picked a small, slender knife up from the desk and leaned in until her face was almost touching his, whispering softly as if she were speaking to a lover.

“And, Sam, darling, I am very, very expert.”

“No,” rasped Nathan. “No! I don’t want him damaged!”

Bast sighed and stood up.

“Well, that’s annoying.”

“Don’t listen to him,” growled Setzen. “Do it anyway.”

“He is the
client
, Setzen. I’ll ask you again, Sam. Will you open the box?”

“No.”

“Fine. Setzen, would you mind going upstairs and bringing the package?”

Setzen nodded and left. Sam saw Bast and Nathan exchange a slight smile, and for the first time, his resolution began to waver.

“What is it?”