System Seven (16 page)

Positioned behind the
driver’s seat, he relied on the jet-black tint of the windows to shield him.
Fear flickered like lightning.

“Anki Raymer?” The
woman bent to make eye contact.

Anki turned to
respond, only to see a burnt red hole erupt next to the woman’s eye,
accompanied by a single loud
clack!
Dark spray bloomed behind her blonde hair. The woman crumpled to the ground
under the street lamp’s glare, her eyes searching listlessly.

“Drive, Anki. Go.
Now.”

She started the car
and pulled away.

“Turn right. Back on
N9. Head south.”

Silence strained,
uncomfortable and dark. He unscrewed the silencer from his Glock. “You know
that I–”

“– had to, I know. I
saw her gun. I’m just... It’s all happening too fast. Much too fast.”

He slipped the handgun
into the bag. The pressure returned, an unwelcome train approaching. He reached
up to touch her shoulder.

“The woman, what kind
of feeling did you get from her? Same as the men at your place?”

“Yes. Closed off,
shielded.”

“Okay. Relax, Anki.
Find your center, your normal. Imagine it fully. Settle into it. The night is
ours now, we are safe. Keep traveling south. Tell me when we approach Alkmaar.
I have to meditate again.”

The odd tracking tension
signaled clearly. Once more he began a journey away from the car and the memory
of killing. He went with survival in mind, an intense focuser, and found the
second time easier.

Memories flushed out
became more meaningful, seen through eyes older and wiser. Without intention he
visited the day, the most painful day he knew.

The city was elaborate
and spanned his entire room. Mama let him leave them out as the last week of
summer ended. An empty box was evidence of her support for his passion –
another box of wooden blocks she’d purchased earlier in the afternoon. The
church, the constable’s yard, the school, the three factories, the rows of houses,
and the centerpiece, the king’s castle and moat filled with strips of a paper
bag and plastic alligators. With utter concentration, he finished the castle’s
tower, pleased to see he still had over a dozen blocks left over.

He rose carefully and
tip toed around his wooden metropolis to fetch mama and papa. They would be so
proud. He halted just shy of the den,
listening. Their voices were urgent, hushed... something was wrong.

“... it shouldn’t be,
but I can’t help it. It just is.” His father sounded worried, something he’d
never heard before.

“Then why did he go to
them? If he knew beforehand? This doesn’t add up, Vincent. We have to go, now.”

He hurried back to his
room, afraid of being caught eavesdropping. He almost fell into his city as he
stepped back into its midst. His parents’ footfalls sounded in the living room
and then a loud crash shook the house. The tower of his castle toppled and
Johan shrank in fear.

He heard his father’s
command to stop followed by a metallic cough, then two more. His mama screamed
and pounded down the hall toward his room.

She made it to the
doorway and locked eyes with him before her chest opened up once, twice,
accompanied by coughs and the air rushing from her lungs. She mouthed the words
‘I love you’ and fell into his city of blocks.

So surreal was the
scene; he squatted in shock and stared at the small dark holes in her back. Her
arms lay forward as if stretched to reach him. A pool of blood spread on the
wood floor. A part of him knew what he’d just seen but the rest was lost, still
gripping the previous moments of normalcy.

A man appeared in the
doorway with a long pistol. He leveled it at Johan.

His deep voice filled
the room. “Do you know anything, little boy?” The accent was thick and strange.

Johan could only shake
his head.

“No, you wouldn’t yet,
would you? Here now, your mama and papa are dead. They won’t be coming back. Do
you want to be with them, too? Are do you want to stay alone here without them?”

In a moment of
confusion, Johan wanted to be with his parents, of course, but could he? This
man seemed to know more about death.

Something told him,
no! He wanted to be alive.

“Could I live,
please?”

The man smiled. The
trigger finger twitched before the pistol lowered.

“Then you will live,
little boy. Not a bad choice.”

The man left, closing
the battered front door behind him. In the silence that followed, realization
set in. Johan began to sob, then to cry with abandon. Neighbors eventually
found him in his room, covering his mother’s body in wooden blocks – a burial
of both his mama and of his life’s innocence.

Shift
.

A burial service, two
rectangles cut in the ground, and two caskets. It lasted so long, too many
words that didn’t mean anything from people he didn’t really know. Only when
his grandpa spoke did he take notice.

“Despite all the
questions that press heavily on us today, we must also make room for
remembering the answers that we have, to the most important of questions about
Vincent and Juliana. Were they loving people? Were they brilliant human beings
with a vision for a better future? Would they answer the call for help? Yes,
the answers are yes, to all. Please, do not walk from this place and time in
grief. Do not do that to their memory. Instead, walk forward with the brilliant
memories of who they were, so that they will always be just that. Do not drift
away from Gerrit – for he is their legacy, the result of their love, and he
will need you all. God bless you Vincent, and you, Juliana. Until we meet
again.”

Shift.

A whispered message
from a stranger at the wake. “Gerrit, make your own destiny. Be different and
you’ll stay alive.” He figured it meant he shouldn’t be like his parents but
couldn’t imagine why. Turning, he saw the stranger’s back as he walked towards
the door. Johan started to follow only to be stopped by his grandfather. With a
somber look, his grandfather guided him back to the buffet table and gave him a
plateful of baby carrots and dip.

He’d avoided baby
carrots ever since.

A little learning is a dangerous thing, but a lot of
ignorance is just as bad.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882,
American Poet, Essayist)

A lizard climbed the
sheer rock face, crested a peak, and took up position over the rock garden. It
blinked and soaked in the morning sun. By Austin’s count, fourteen more basked
on the rocks around it. He sat at a table under an umbrella and sipped his
water, captivated by so many wild reptiles sharing their space with him. A
brilliant blue swimming pool rivalled the sky. Asian Man sat close by in the
shade of the pines and looked on. He now had a name, Meng. Clues to his
personality had yet to surface but he was certainly aware of Austin’s every
move and perhaps his every thought. The
ankle bracelet still clung like an alien appendage, threatening and capping
options.

The prior day had been
half interview and half briefing. Powerful people sought Austin and his laptop
– people that knew he’d been taken from the hospital and who were expecting an
end-result, a communication. If they didn’t get it soon, complications were
certain. This drove the need to begin Austin’s testing immediately. Just after
dusk they had set out for a new location, a place described as more secure
higher in the Sierras.

Departure had been
simple, unceremonious.

“So we’ll meet again?”
Austin asked.

“If the variables
allow for it,” Edward replied. “I will say it is my sincere hope they do.
Travel well.”

He and Meng arrived
late in the evening at the house in the mountains, dropped off on the driveway.
Crickets and bullfrogs sang in symphony from a nearby creek. An elderly
housekeeper greeted them at the door and showed them to a room with two beds.
He fell asleep almost immediately. Daybreak revealed a residence surrounded by
a palisade of pines backed up against a steep forested hill.

His tester was due any
moment. Questions and doubts rained, drowning confidence and mixing excitement
with biting anxiety. These people lived differently. They existed in tune with
powers they called natural but appeared anything but. They offered no apologies
for being different, only acknowledging there was more to learn than society
knew or could teach.

“Not so many of them
today.”

Startled, he turned to
find the voice above and behind him.

“Yesterday there were
close to two dozen.” A wiry man appeared from between the trees. “They are
drawn to the warmth of the rocks and I’m pretty sure the company.”

Completely bald and
spa tan, he looked about sixty and wore dark sweat bottoms with a yellow
t-shirt. He wore hiking shoes and looked to have just come down from the hill
behind the house. Austin stood.

“Bonjour, je suis
Marcel. Et vous êtes Austin.” His grip was that of a younger man’s. “Edward
says you have unique natural ability and you want to explore it with us, yes?
Well, it’s my job to make sure of a few things. First, that you really do want
to join us and for the right reasons. Second, that you should. And third, that
you can. Desire, fit, and ability. DFA testing.”

There was nothing to
dislike about Marcel; he had a direct energy Austin immediately admired and
wanted to emulate. “Fair enough.”

“Time is short, so we’ll begin. What’s your
motivation to join us?”

“Is that a trick
question? What better choice? They want to screw me into obscurity. Make me an
example? I don’t know. Without help, they’ll nail me quick. How’s that for
motivation?”

Marcel’s gray eyes
studied him. “Alright, that’s a good chunk of it. Now dig a little deeper.”

“Deeper? What, I–”

“Don’t waste time
covering. Deal with it. Why else do you want to join us?”

Marcel’s gaze drove
him, forcing honesty. Right there, deep center, was another, far more selfish
reason: the draw of the unknown, the draw to mystery and to power.

He could feel Marcel’s
x-ray.

“Okay, sure. I’m drawn
to the mystery. Have been all my life. It’s behind everything and explains how
any of this,” he indicated the world around them, “could even exist. I know
there are secrets to how it works. How everything and everyone in it is
connected. You people know those secrets. I want to know, too. I want to
fucking
evolve
.”

A screech from a
circling hawk drew their eyes to the sky, drawing their attention.

“What of your father?
And Kaiya? What will happen to them?”

“My dad can be
cleared. The charges are bogus. Completely bogus. You have resources, you must.
And you could pick up Kaiya right now, before she gets into more trouble.”

Marcel frowned. “No, Austin.
I’m afraid the truth is right now your dad is nowhere to be found. The FBI
reports that he escaped during transport. We don’t know where he is. Agent
Payant took Kaiya to a CIA station house after we grabbed you. There was a
shooting. They’re both wanted for murder and are on the run. And Kaiya’s mother
is missing.”

Like a pile driver,
Marcel’s words slammed home. In that moment, everything became wrong, all very
wrong
.

“That – that can’t be.
No. No, this is insane. Totally insane.”

He recalled Mrs.
Wilson’s expression as she warned his best efforts would fail Kaiya. His stomach
turned.

“God
damn
.”

The hawk soared lower
in the sky, circling. Thoughts of everyone he’d put in danger threatened to
drown him in guilt, though in the shadows was memory of his dad’s behavior
before the blast at the house. To see fear in his eyes was so wrong, so unlike
him. What did he know to be afraid of? What kind of work had he done for the
CIA?

Marcel still waited
for the answer to why he wanted to join them. In truth, it wasn’t just
desperation and the need for protection. He wanted the power to impact reality,
to
correct
reality. To make things
right with whatever tools were available. Stopping now would cut him off.
Questions would go unanswered the rest of his life, though he’d have a stump to
remind him of how close to the truth he’d gotten.

“Like I said, I want
to know more about the mystery. How to control my part in it. More than
anything I want safety for my dad and Kaiya and her mom. Right now I can’t do
anything for them. Or myself.”

Marcel sat on the
ledge of the rock garden and regarded him. “Is that all?”

“Yeah. I’m not a power
monger or anything.”

Marcel smiled with
perfect teeth. “No one ever is, but it
is
power that you seek, keep no illusions about that.
C’est normal
. However, you must realize that when you carry the
secrets with you, you carry the seeds of great danger. Handled wrong, you could
forfeit what safety they bring and destroy yourself and others. This is not a
playground. You will come to understand what I mean, and no, don’t imagine you
do now.”

Despite the warm
morning, a chill ran down his spine.

Marcel continued. “So
that is your desire, to join us. Next question: should you? The answer is
partly yours and partly mine to give. I’m going to ask a series of questions.
Answer honestly or don’t answer at all.”

The hawk circled
lower, visible between the trees.

“Austin, to save your
life, would you kill someone?”

He could imagine it
but it wasn’t pleasant. “Yes. I could.”

“Austin, are you
trying to infiltrate the Korda?”

“No.”
Korda
...
?

“A trusted member of
the group has stolen secrets with the intent of selling them. You know the
thief well, a close friend. You’ve tracked and trapped your friend and receive
an absolute kill order. Do you kill your friend?”

Hardball. He thought
quickly. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“On the assumption
that in the wrong hands the secrets would hurt people. Innocents.”

Marcel barely nodded
and began to lay out scenario after scenario, each measuring a different
attribute or principle. He stopped trying to figure the point of every question
and concentrated on providing honest answers.

He would be a fit or
not.

• • •

“This can’t be
happening. He’s lost his fucking mind.” Brodie looked up at the clock. “I want
a profile to work from, anything to suggest what might’ve led up to this and
where he may be headed next. Have it in my office within the hour.”

The director steamed
while pacing the operations floor. Agents tracked Mac and Kaiya’s passage to
the neighbor’s house. Forcing entry, they found the woman dead with multiple
gunshot wounds.

“Anything on Yuni
Wilson?”

“Nothing since they
found her cell at the house.”

“What about the
records search on Mac’s neighbor?”

“Helen Stewart. Two
vehicle registrations in her name. A brown ‘92 Mazda and a white 2011 Toyota
Camry. The Mazda’s missing. Preparing a priority BOLO for all NorCal agencies.”

Brodie’s gaze rested
on a photo of Mac onscreen. There was nothing else he could do. Suppressing
emotion, he said, “Write it for triple murder and coordinate it through FBI.
Get it out ASAP. Multi-state. I want this to be the shortest manhunt in
history.”

• • •

“Mac, slow up. We need
to pull over.”

He looked over. “Why?”

“See that freeway sign
ahead? Pull up three big bushes back.”

Mac did, his lips
firming. “It’s here isn’t it? Not on highway 80.”

Kaiya nodded slightly.
She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “He told me in the hospital. In case something
happened. He said it could be insurance and worth protecting. It’s buried at
the base of that tree or maybe the one next to it.”

“Stay put.” Mac pulled
the keys, suddenly wary of his passenger. He climbed out and ran into the thick
shrubbery. In the light of early morning he spotted a disturbed patch of
vegetation. The laptop came free easily.

Back in the Mazda he
handed the bundle to Kaiya. “Okay, two things. One, you have to learn to trust
me completely or I can’t rely on you. Second... that was a good first step,
just now. Any more secrets?”

She shook her head.

“You sure? No more
surprises? Okay.” He started the car. “Now let’s get the hell out of Dodge.”

The morning sun beamed
past the open rollup doors where a wiry man stood working an arc welder. The
grey hair and thick moustache were familiar to Mac.

“Steve,” he called
out. “Long time no see.”

“Mac? Well I’ll be
damned.” They shook hands. “Yeah, it’s been a while. How you been?”

“You know, life in the
fast lane. Steve, this is Kaiya, a friend of mine. We’re taking a little
vacation and Helen lent us her keys to the Coachman. I forgot to call you to
make sure you didn’t have plans for it.”

“No, no, go ahead.
Hell, I’m so backed up vacation ain’t in my vocabulary. The rig ain’t been off
the lot since last Christmas. I just need to drop in a couple good batteries
and it’ll be ready for the road. You’ll want to fix ‘er with some new gas, but
she’ll get you down the road. Gonna tow the car?”

“Yeah, we’re bringing
it along.”

“Well, let’s get you two
set up.”

Steve unracked two
batteries, hefted one to Mac, and led them through a door to the back lot. Mac
wore his trunking police scanner on his belt with the earpiece in his left ear.
Steve noticed it and asked, “You aren’t using this on some stakeout are ya?
Heh, ‘cause I’d hate to see ‘er get shot up!” He laughed.

“No, this is strictly
a getaway.”

Kaiya made a wry face
when Steve wasn’t looking.

He watched Steve screw
down the bolts on the batteries. Traffic on the scanner caught his ear. An
all-points bulletin issued for the Mazda included its color and license plate
number as well as descriptions of them both. Armed and dangerous fugitives,
wanted for triple murder.

His heart fell.
Helen?
A sudden rage threatened. He
clamped down hard, delaying emotion. Steve would help the authorities once he
heard. No doubt it would make the news.

He sent Kaiya into the
camper to look around and joined Steve as he pulled the tow hitch from a
storage compartment.

“Steve, I lied. Things
are not at all okay, they are going very bad.”

The mechanic looked up
at Mac, suddenly wary.

“Listen closely: you
know me, I’m a CIA lifer, been playing by the book since day one. Kaiya is a
protected witness, or was supposed to be. I interrupted two agents roughing her
up. I stepped in and a goddamn firefight went down. Two agents are dead.” He
put up a hand at Steve’s look. “I know, but it’s a long story and I don’t have
time. We’re on the run. I just heard on the radio we’re wanted for
triple
murder. Steve, I think they
killed Helen.”

Steve looked ready to
lay Mac out. “
Killed
her? Now why the
fuck
would the CIA kill Helen?”