Stones: Experiment (Stones #3) (59 page)

To the north, mountains rise up out of the ocean with lushly combed skirts of cedar and hemlock trees. Somehow, the air smells of salt and freshly squeezed lime.

There’s a youthful vibe here, different from other cities weighed down with too much history and lost dreams.

As he soars out over the ocean, Matt banks and turns, looking eastward directly into the sun. Small tongues of orange gas leap off its fiery surface. He stares at its interior, the heat bathing his eyes and pulling him closer. But the earth is like a magnet that pulls his gaze to the rocky beach below, the frontier between the liquid and the non-liquid worlds. Here the sea ends, and asphalt, glass and steel begin.

Passing slowly over the city, Matt senses a disturbance, as if the buildings and people are going out of focus. From a single point, a ripple starts directly below him at the intersection of two broad streets. It expands outward in concentric circles, leaving a large dimple on the face of the city. A hole opens up like a gaping toothless grin. The pavement drops away to reveal a perfect sphere of fire, a miniature version of the sun, resting at the bottom of a crater.

The fireball turns into an exploding nova, instantly vaporizing buildings, people, cars, sidewalks, trees. It exposes raw earth that hasn’t seen the light of day for hundreds of years and wipes it clean. An area 400 meters across and 200 meters high is cleansed of all matter. Their foundations blown away, skyscrapers hang in the air before crumbling into the mushrooming flames.

The heat rushes up to meet Matt, passes through him and shoots skyward. There’s a blinding flash, visible only to him. Electromagnetic radiation, in the form of high energy photons, burst out from the core of the explosion, passing through walls of glass and steel, liberating electrons from atoms and molecules in the bodies of living organisms.

Matt sees in his mind that hours, days and months later, the biological damage inflicted by the sudden ionization of organic tissue will sicken and kill the population lucky enough to escape immediate death. The dying breaths of shrunken old men and listless children pass through his thoughts.

Turning over his shoulder to the west, a magnificent white cloud rises over the city on a billowing column of smoke and debris.

The dream slowly fades from his eyes, drawn away into the darkness.

Save the people.

The voice wakes Matt up in a hot sweat.

Checking one of the disposable jaxes lying on the floor of the tent, he sees it’s 4:45 AM. He reaches out of the sleeping bag and nudges Yarah.

But she’s gone.

For an instant, fear swallows him whole. He shoots out of the sleeping bag to his knees, gropes for the cloaking box and stares into the thin moonlight bleeding in from the outside.

Yarah is sitting at the mouth of the tent, looking up at the stars.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Matt says.

“Not tired.”

Matt takes stock of his own body. He should have been utterly exhausted after less than two hours sleep. But he’s energized and alert.

Yarah sniffles. “Why do so many people have to die?”

“Did you have a dream?”

She turns to face him, reaching out trembling arms. “Yes. But it wasn’t a dream, was it?”

“No,” Matt says. “It’s going to happen unless we warn them or do something.” He jumps to his feet and pulls her up.

“What about Jessica?” Yarah says.

Matt grabs his backpack. “Don’t worry. She’s still alive. We’ll see her soon.”

“How do you know?”

Matt shakes his head. “No idea. Just a calmness.” He zips the backpack shut and starts to walk away. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Back to the city. Downtown Vancouver.”

“Why?” Yarah looks through the early morning light at the high-rise tombstones clustered miles away.

“To save it.”

F
ive pairs of eyes stare at Ryzaard as he walks into the conference room in the glass bubble at the center of the lab. The walls are flat black, shutting out the world. He senses the unsettled feeling in the room.

“What’s the problem?” he says.

“Still haven’t gotten used to your younger looks,” Elsa says. “It’s creepy.”

He drops into his chair. “Just give it time. But we have more important matters to discuss, don’t we?”

Alexa wanders into the room, walking slowly to her chair to the right of Ryzaard and sitting.

“We’re accelerating the war.” Ryzaard says. “I want it to happen tomorrow.” He leans forward, moving his eyes back and forth between Jing-wei and Kalani. “So, what’s the plan?”

Kalani looks at Jing-wei and puts his hands on the table, palms up, motioning for her to take the lead.

Jing-wei stands. “Are you sure this is the right approach?”

“I’m sure.” Ryzaard waves his hand, as if to wipe away any doubt that may linger in the room. “Let’s stop wasting time. Tell me what you’ve got.”

“We’ve discussed it.” Jing-wei’s eyes sweep the table. “And we’re all in agreement that the best plan is a simple one that requires the least loss of human life.”

“Just a minute,” Ryzaard says. “That all depends on whether your plan carries the punch we need. We can only do this once. The entire project is at stake. It has to work the first time. No glitches. No errors.” He motions for Jing-wei to continue.

A stiff silence fills the room.

“What we propose is a provocation that gives a pretense for China to strike first.”

“I like it,” Ryzaard says. “Describe in detail how it would work.”

Jing-wei nods. “China intercepts a hyper-encrypted message moving between India’s Prime Minister and his own military. The Chinese decode it, and it details India’s plans to immediately annex Tibet and Nepal. Other messages get intercepted, confirming the plan. China panics and launches a first strike from its orbital bases. Bombs detonate in the Punjab, mostly just military sites, far from population areas. A shot over the bow. There will be limited radiation. No civilian deaths.” Jing-wei stops, waiting for Ryzaard to ask for clarification.

But the question never comes. Ryzaard simply motions for Jing-wei to continue.

“Of course, all this is being choreographed from our end. We’re sending the messages, supplying the de-encryption algorithms and detonating the nukes.”

“Keep going,” Ryzaard says.

“India reacts. A hail of bombs land in the Gobi Desert. Thailand and Burma do the same as allies of India. No casualties, but still technically an attack on China. Russia’s alliance with China requires it to respond, and it lobs a few token strategic nukes into Southeast Asia, careful to keep them off-shore away from population centers.”

Jerek jumps in. “No one dies, but the dominoes start falling.”

“All the attacks are legally justified, based on secret alliances we’ve already analyzed.” Jing-wei fingers her jax. “Military commanders on the ground will go crazy and try to shut it all down. They won’t know who’s authorizing the strikes. They’ll make announcements about how they’ve been hacked and someone else is pulling the trigger. There’ll be more encrypted communications to make sure no one believes them. The net will grow wider and wider.” Jing-wei points her jax at the wall. A map of the world appears, showing red lines going back and forth all over Asia and Europe.

Diego lays his slate on the table. “With the right use of smaller tactical weapons and careful selection of locations, the whole scenario can be pulled off at the cost of zero civilian lives and limited military casualties.”

“We have deep access to all secure internal Mesh-points.” Kalani takes his feet off the table and sits up. “We’ll be able to pick the targets and shut it all down at any point. Just push the button, and it all stops.” His hand slams onto the table. “Instant world peace.”

Elsa’s eyes meet Ryzaard’s across the table. “Then we leak a story onto the Mesh about how the intervention of our Shinto priest has stopped the madness. He gives his little speech.
Presto
, he’s an instant world hero. Everyone wants a shrine in their backyard.”

In the silence, five sets of eyes turn to Ryzaard.

He lights a cigarette, puts his hands together behind his head and stares up at the ceiling. An uneven cloud of blue haze drifts away from his mouth. He rises to his feet.

“Pathetic.” The lips on his impossibly young face curl back, revealing perfectly white teeth. “Look at yourselves.” His voice rides on a crescendo of rage. “Every one of you, filled with fear. Afraid to use the power you’ve been given.” His eyes drop to Diego. “
Zero loss of civilian life.
Is that something you’re proud of? Is that what we’re trying to accomplish? No!”

Taking a long pull on the cigarette, Ryzaard blows out a column of smoke that crosses the table like a fire hose spewing water.

“You’re smart, talented, every one of you. After all this time, how have you failed to understand?” He starts walking around the table, passing behind each of them and gesticulating with his arms. “We’re not here to do scientific research, make infinite amounts of money, hack encryption codes. All of that is just a means to an end. And what is the end?”

Ryzaard pauses, letting the question hang in the air.

“Nothing less than the
end
of the old world order. Radical and instantaneous change. The end of suffering. The end of evil. The beginning of freedom.”

Alexa rolls her eyes. “Freedom from what?”

Ryzaard glares at her. “Freedom from the tyranny of unlimited choices. Freedom from suffering that people bring upon themselves. Freedom from the limitations of their own narrow self-interest. Freedom from the stupidity and fear that plague humans.”

“So
you
are going to make all the choices for them?” Alexa can’t restrain herself from talking.

The rest of the table sinks lower in their seats, steeling themselves against the coming storm.

But Ryzaard doesn’t get angry. Instead, he ignores Alexa.

“We will bring peace to the earth, all of us working together. With the power of the Stones to back us up, we will make rational decisions, unafraid. Put the good of the whole before the good of any one person. Eliminate waste. Point civilization in a productive direction. Keep all that is good, and cut away the bad without mercy. Effortless happiness and contentment for all.” Ryzaard sits. “Isn’t that what all of you want?”

General nods of agreement.

“Then we can’t be content with
tweaking
thousands of years of accumulated debris. We must sweep it aside, boldly, decisively, without hesitation or remorse.”

“Let me see if I understand what you’re saying.” Jing-wei swallows hard, keeping her eyes on her quivering fingers. “You want us to
purposely
target the cities, killing millions?”

“Yes!” Ryzaard shouts. “We kill millions now to save billions in the future. It’s only a matter of time before complete destruction overtakes Earth. We can avoid that. Shall we not use that power?”

Jing-wei’s eyes slowly join Ryzaard’s. “Almost every major city has buried or hidden munitions. We have the codes.” Her voice is almost inaudible. “We’ll prepare a list of proposed targets. The basic structure of our plan will accommodate some tweaking.”

“Good,” Ryzaard says. “Get the list of cities to me within three hours. I want to see rivers of blood by tomorrow.” He pushes away from the table and walks to the door, stopping just short of the exit.

Jing-wei swivels in her chair. “Anything else, Dr. Ryzaard?”

“Yes,” he says. “Make sure Vancouver is on the list.”

J
essica is floating in a white sea.

Beautiful flowers on slender stems bloom on an endless desert of golden sand. They grow higher and higher under the hot sun, the petals ballooning out into impossibly large discs. Jagged streaks of lightning rain down from a blue sky. The flowers morph into bulging balls of fire rising atop pillars of boiling smoke and debris. Below, the sand glazes over, turning to a smooth floor of shiny black glass.

People are screaming, running away, their clothes on fire, skin sloughing off from the inferno.