The Tomorrow Heist (22 page)

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Authors: Jack Soren

BOOK: The Tomorrow Heist
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Jonathan recognized the name from Tatsu's story as one of the scientists who had tried to save Mikawa.

“Dr. Reese?” Maggie said. Jonathan had been relaying a précis version of what he was hearing for her.


. . . main objective, but we underestimated Umi's desire for revenge. A biologist named Dr. Norris worked for her for a while but disappeared a few weeks ago. We don't have much beyond that, as the communications perimeter went up shortly after. According to what we could piece together from Tanaka and Reese, Norris was developing a virus for her—­a virus she was going to release into the food chain. Originally called Project Threshold, it apparently was recently renamed Project Dead Lights. Near as we can determine, it was designed to shorten telomeres on human chromosomes. I'm afraid that's all we received. Our counsel is to make the database your priority and look into Dead Lights if there's time. There's no guarantee that Norris completed his work or what the real outcome of shortened telomeres are, but I wanted you to have all the information we do.


In Reese's final report, he said one of the sub's automated systems had broken down. Since you might need it to get down there, we've incorporated our version of those systems into your data device. It's not as sophisticated, but it will get you within sight of Ashita. Good luck.

The recording ended abruptly. Jonathan spun the wheel to open the door to the moon-­pool room. Per and Tatsu were no doubt getting antsy about why it was taking so long. He swung the door open and felt his heart sink even further.

“The sub,” Maggie said.

It was gone.

“D
O
YOU
THINK
this implant of his is for real?” Tatsu said.

“No reason not to,” Per said.

“You think he's telling us everything?”

“Highly unlikely,” Per said. “Much the same way your story left details out.”

Tatsu felt her skin flush. She'd always been a terrible liar. She wondered why she cared if Per knew she was leaving things out or not.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Tatsu said, finally.

“Of course,” Per said, not seeming to care one way or the other, “as long as you follow through on your promise, I don't care what you tell them.”

The light over the air lock changed to green, indicating the inside door had been shut and the room had pressurized to match the ship's normal pressure. Per spun the wheel on the door and pulled it open.

“And you promised to help me get to Umi before she . . . before it's too late.”

“And so I shall. Getting us to Ashita is the only thing that matters, now.”

“Which means what? You'll kill anyone who gets in your way?”

“You're not really one to talk about killing, Tatsu. In the short time I've known you, you've left bodies for me to find. Twice. And I think I've proved that I don't intend anyone any harm, as long as I get what I want.”

“Proved?”

“I've saved both your and Jonathan's life since we got here. There have been a ridiculous number of times I could have hurt or killed you all. Yes, proved,” Per said, as they stepped into the chamber, and he pulled the door shut behind them. When the door was secured, Tatsu hit the button to start the pressurization process.

“And I suppose pointing a gun at me back at the helicop—­” Tatsu stopped talking as Per handed her his gun.

“Take it.”

Tatsu took it slowly, unsure of this game.

“Shoot me.”

“What?”

“Go ahead,” Per said, grasping the barrel and placing it against his forehead. “Shoot me.”

Tatsu thought about it for a minute, looking in Per's eyes. What little emotion she could find there seemed to say he was serious. She put her finger on the trigger and applied a little pressure, the hammer easing back ever so slightly. Time seemed to stand still, the only sound the slight hiss of the chamber's pressure changing and the blood pounding in her ears. Finally, she flicked the magazine eject button with her thumb and caught the clip that slid out of the gun's grip. It was empty. No bullets. She took the gun away from his forehead and pulled the slide back to see if a round was waiting in the chamber, but it was empty too.

“You unloaded it,” she said, though when she thought back to being on deck when both Alex and Mr. Morgan were shooting at them, Per hadn't fired a shot.

“It was never loaded,” Per said. The light changed to green, and he spun the wheel on the door.

They stepped through the door, leaving the empty gun behind them. Jonathan and Maggie were standing by the edge of the moon pool. The empty moon pool.

“Where's the sub?” Per asked.

“Morgan,” Maggie said.

“Is there another way we can get down there?” Jonathan asked, stepping over to Tatsu. Everyone was looking at her.

“Maybe.”

 

Chapter Thirty

Ashita

2:45
P.M.
Local Time

L
EW
HAD
N
EVER
had such a surreal experience in his life. He was almost a kilometer under the ocean walking barefoot through a massive, deserted park. Lush green grass stretched for as far as the eye could see, and from its feel underfoot, it wasn't artificial. Groves of trees were sporadically placed here and there, with picnic areas complete with picnic tables, water fountains, and barbecues in large supply, some of them with huge, ivy-­covered trellises over their entrances. But even with all that, the place felt . . . wrong.

There were no birds, no kids screeching, not even any squirrels darting here and there. Lew felt more like he was on a spaceship than under the ocean.

The walls, all pristine and white, curved gently around the perimeter, with doors that led to mechanical rooms, storage areas, and even public washrooms. And in the center of it all was a massive conical tower rising up to the ceiling of the sphere half a kilometer over his head. Lew just wanted to run away from this madness, but for the time being, Mikawa was his best option.


Please hurry, Lew,
” Mikawa's voice said.

“You say this place is called Ashita?” Lew asked as he headed around the perimeter of the park.


That's right.

“How big
is
it?” Lew asked.


How big?
” Mikawa said, seeming almost confused. Then a moment later: “
It has 196,428.5714 square meters of surface area. 8,184,523.8095 cubic meters of volume, a displacement of—­

“Whoa, whoa,” Lew said, getting dizzy. “What are you, a scientist?”


Something like that,
” Mikawa said.

“Okay, something a normal person can understand. How many floors in the tower?”


Thirty-­eight.

“See, wasn't that easy?” Lew said, looking up at the top of the tower and whistling. “So where are you?”


We are exactly 125.2—­

“Uh, uh, uh,” Lew chided.


Yes. Normal. We are halfway up. Floor nineteen,
” Mikawa said.

“There ya go,” Lew said. “We'll have you de-­geeked in no time, Mickey. So how many ­people are in Ashita?”


Currently there are eight ­people in Ashita.

“And you can track where they are? I mean, I don't have to worry about running into any, right?”

“Only Dr. Reese is wearing a tag we can track. Our other calculations are arrived at through visual identification. And your communication implant.

“Is mine the only communication implant?” Lew asked, hope edging his voice.


Yes.

Crap. Jonny, where are you?

“Do you know who they are? The other ­people in Ashita?”


Some of them.

“Tell me who they are and their current locations.”


Umi Tenabe is in her residence on the top floor with four guards. We only recognize their uniforms. Dr. Reese is in the research facility on the main floor with two other guards.

Tenabe. Lew remembered that name from the briefing on the plane.


Dr.
Reese, huh?”

Lew was sure he was talking to a computer of some kind, but it seemed to get confused just like a person would yet adapted incredibly well. Like when he gave it a nickname, it didn't even react. It just adapted. Lew wasn't sure what the deal was down here, but he did know one thing—­he was in the middle of a serious shitstorm. And, with no weapons, he was in no shape to take on six guards.

Mikawa's proposition was a simple one: He'd get Lew back to the surface if Lew did something for him. Mikawa wanted the undamaged robot body from the crate Lew had been in. But they apparently weighed around four hundred pounds each. Lew needed something called an exoskeleton suit in order to lift the robot and transport it. So now Lew was on his way to the docking port, where apparently there were a ­couple of these exoskeletons. Lew still hadn't determined if helping Mikawa was such a wise thing to do, but Lew was picking his battles. If he didn't push too hard, Mikawa seemed compelled to answer direct questions. And the one thing Lew needed more than anything right now was information. Well, and to get out of his wetsuit shorts before his balls shot out his nose.

“Why don't you tell me about Dr. Reese, Mickey,” Lew said.


Dr. Chris Reese. Born April 15, 1985 in London, Ontario, Canada. He has a PhD in machine learning and another in computer science, both from the University of Toronto. He most recently worked for the Crystasis Foundation before coming to Ashita six months ago.

“Six months in this place did
that
to him?” Lew said. The last thing Reese looked like was a doctor of anything but crazy.


No, we have been . . . we have been . . .”

“You okay, Mickey?” Lew thought he sounded more confused than before.


There were orders to keep him from sleeping,
” Mikawa finally said. Usually that torture technique was to break a subject so they'd cooperate. Reese had looked well past that point, like someone had just been punishing him.

“Notify me of everyone's movements, Mickey.”


Affirmative,
” Mikawa said.

Just then a small robot came whirring around the corner. It traveled at a good clip, but when it got close to the wall, the robot turned and whirred away.

“What the hell was that?” Lew asked.


Maintenance robot. All of Ashita is automated. They clean, make repairs, and the drones deliver things.

“Drones?” Lew said, looking up. He hadn't noticed them before, but there were several quad-­copter drones flying around high overhead, each with a small box underneath them. “Huh. What are they delivering and to who?”


Some are just cameras. Others are delivering things to other robots.

“Well, it's definitely a Japanese underwater city,” Lew said to himself.


Please repeat, Lew?

“I was just saying all you need are some sushi restaurants and an indoor golf course.”


Restaurants and shopping will be on level fifteen to twenty-­five. They are still under construction.

“So no golf,” Lew quipped.


There are a few dozen golf simulators on the entertainment level. Three are functioning if you would like to play.

Lew shook his head. “I'm good, thanks,” Lew said as he continued toward the docking port. “Tell me something, Mickey.”


Tell you . . .”
Mikawa stumbled on Lew's colloquialism.

“Sorry, I was just wondering, why me? Why do you need my help? And why not get one of the other ­people down here to help you? They're all on Umi's payroll already.”


That is why, Lew. We need to do something Umi Tenabe does not want us to do. You are the first anomaly since Nagura to come down here. We have lost contact with him. We didn't choose you, you were the only option.

“Don't sweat it, Mickey. You wouldn't believe the number of times in my life where that's been the case.”

 

Chapter Thirty-­one

Jirojin Maru

2:51
P.M.
Local Time

J
ONATHAN
STOOD
BESIDE
Maggie watching Tatsu work the crane that ran on tracks in the ceiling as Per waved his arms and guided her toward the water. The disabled sub from behind the partition was in the jaws of the crane. It wasn't like any submarine Jonathan had ever seen. Two huge glass balls sat nestled in a pocket of bright yellow metal.

“You're not really going to let them come with us, are you?” Maggie said quietly. He'd been having his own tug-­of-­war about that.

“Per hasn't shown himself as a threat,” Jonathan said. “Just the opposite.”

“It's not him I'm worried about. Tatsu and Umi are close. She's been sending the kid out on missions for months. “

“To do what?”

Maggie didn't answer. Jonathan looked at her.

“You don't know, do you,” Jonathan said.

“That's not the point. I don't know what Tatsu's experienced out there the past few weeks, no, but to think it has resulted in a complete one-­eighty on her loyalties seems like a foolish bet.”

“Or the perfect time to turn her into an asset,” Jonathan said. “You know the drill better than I. If she's doubting her loyalties, this is the perfect time to use her. So what—­”

“I don't care what she said, she knows the rest of Umi's plan.” Maggie turned and faced him. “In detail. We're walking blind into who-­knows-­what down there, and I'd bloody well like a little more idea if we're coming back.”

Jonathan watched Tatsu move the sub over the moon pool with Per's help and lower it into the water. After moving the crane jaws out of the way, Tatsu jumped down. There was something in the way she jumped, control and fluidity. Jonathan, trained in Kenjutsu himself, had seen ­people move like that before. It betrayed their training, their balance, and their lethality.

“All right,” Jonathan whispered as Per and Tatsu walked toward them. “Back my play when the time comes.” Maggie nodded.

“Can this thing go deep enough?” Maggie asked.

“And then some,” Tatsu said.

“How is it disabled?” Per asked.

“The automated systems malfunctioned,” Tatsu said.

“Automated?” Jonathan asked.

“Ashita sends out a constant signal—­a heartbeat. The automated systems on the submarine lock on and follow the signals to the docking bay on Ashita. There's no real piloting, usually.”

“How do you know all this?” Jonathan asked.

“When Ashita was first completed, Umi would take me with her quite often. Sometimes we stayed down there for weeks at a time. It's really beautiful. But to answer your question, Umi does everything for a reason. At the time, the automation wasn't perfected and would frequently cut out—­or she would make it cut out, I'm not sure which. She trained me on how to manually control the sub so she'd have someone to get her out if need be.”

Jonathan had made up his mind. He stepped back and brought the machine gun to bear on Tatsu. Maggie stepped behind him.

“Per, don't get any ideas. Just move away,” Jonathan said. Per calmly raised his hands to show he was no threat and moved off to the side.

“What's going on?” Tatsu asked, sounding truly surprised.

“I've got nothing against you, Tatsu, and I really hope I'm making a big mistake, but you're not going down there without giving us more information. I'm not sure if I buy the shift in your loyalty to Umi, but one thing we do know is that you know whatever she's planning down there. To the letter. It's why you keep saying we don't have much time. You've got sixty seconds to come clean, or we're going to leave you here.”

“But . . . you need me. How else are you going to find—­”

Jonathan showed her the display on his data device, a blinking light showing where Ashita's signal was coming from.

“But you don't know how to pilot—­”

“We're smart,” Maggie said. “We'll figure it out.”

“You need me to find Dead Lights!” Tatsu said to Per.

“I want to find them, yes, but I don't want to die doing it. If there's a timetable or other danger down there, we need to know what it is,” Per said. Jonathan wasn't sure if he believed Per's allegiance, but he knew how to get him to behave.

“That's a moot point,” Jonathan said. “
I
know what Dead Lights are. I can show them to you.” Per looked at Jonathan like he'd just sprouted a second head.

“You're lying!” Tatsu said.

“I am? So, Dead Lights has nothing to do with, oh, Dr. Norris and the virus he created to shorten telomeres,” Jonathan said. He was trying to be smug, but he was just glad he had pronounced the word right. Whatever it meant.

“But how?”

“Alex told me last night in bed,” Maggie said. Jonathan thought that was risky since they really didn't know what Corsair knew—­and he had just started to put the image of Corsair mounting Maggie out of his mind—­but it seemed to work. Tatsu's shoulders bowed, and she physically slumped. Now the question was what she knew and what she was truly willing to share. If Jonathan sensed any deception at all, sub piloting or not, he would indeed leave her here.

“Umi will be technically dead at 4:45
P.M.
,” Tatsu said. “If I don't talk to her in the next ninety minutes, I never will.”

“Technically dead?” Jonathan said.

“She's going to transfer herself into Ashita's computer—­merge herself with the AI and Mikawa. Her body will be lifeless, but her plan is to live on.

“And the virus? How does she plan to use it?” Jonathan said, hoping he wasn't tipping their hand.

“It's on a timer,” Tatsu said. “At 5:15
P.M.
, thousands of tons of infected algae will be released into the ocean currents using the escape pods. As it drifts, fish and crustaceans will consume it and in turn be infected. And then it will move up the food chain. Umi told me that in six to eighteen months, seventy percent of humans will unknowingly carry the virus.”

“Jesus,” Jonathan said.

“The telomeres,” Maggie said. “What does shortening them do?”

“It's a theory,” Tatsu said. “It might not work. The alteration might not do anything.”

“But if it works?” Jonathan asked, lowering the machine gun's barrel.

“No human will live past eighty years ever again.”

K
NOWIN
G
THE
TIME
constraint they were working under now, Jonathan made his decision as fast as he could. Tatsu was far from harmless, but he needed everyone, in one way or another, for this journey to have a round-­trip. Even so, Jonathan and Maggie searched Per and Tatsu before they got into the sub. It was unlikely that they had any weapons on them after everyone had changed into coveralls, but they had to be sure. No weapons were found, and Jonathan convinced Maggie to trust Tatsu, for now. Which was easier when he pointed out that it was he and Maggie who were now keeping secrets from the others.

While they were talking, Jonathan also told her about Per's arm. As it turned out, she had already noticed that there was something odd about Per's gloved hand.

But what he didn't like more was that he still hadn't come clean with her about being The Monarch for all these years. He wondered how she was going to react when she found out he and Lew had been art thieves while she'd been cooling her heels in Russia. Not to mention how she'd view the hidden agenda if she knew it came from a clandestine group called The Custodians. Suddenly, he was very glad they didn't have time to discuss things any further.

With Jonathan and Maggie in one of the sub's transparent bubbles and Per and Tatsu in the other—­where the steering mechanism was—­they sank beneath the waterline and headed for Ashita. Jonathan called out course corrections from his data device's screen as they descended even farther. Other than that, the occupants were almost silent.

The visibility under the water was incredible. With two solid glass bubbles and no struts, their view was unobstructed and breathtaking. They could even look down between their feet though the ocean was so deep that their view just sort of faded into black.

“Wow,” Maggie said, looking around.

A mere three minutes later, they were already one hundred fifty meters down. Tatsu angled their descent based on Jonathan's instructions, and they cruised almost silently toward the blackness below. Every now and then, they'd pass sea creatures momentarily curious, then apparently terrified when they saw the surface dwellers inconceivably floating in their world. They sank deeper and deeper, but their piece of atmosphere appeared unchanged. The water around them rapidly darkened as the light from the surface found it harder and harder to stretch down so far.

A sudden flash made Jonathan snap his head around. But it wasn't Ashita. It was Maggie with her cell phone. She was trying to take pictures of the life outside the skin of the sub. They exchanged a smile and just for a moment, life wasn't on the line. They were just tourists miraculously in an alien world. And like he'd done so many times since that night on the Finnish/Russian border, Jonathan wondered what life would have been like if he hadn't failed her so many years ago.

“There it is!” Tatsu called out suddenly, breaking the spell.

“Holy shit,” Jonathan said, as Tatsu turned the submarine and headed directly for the glowing orb. They were still a ­couple of hundred meters out, but Ashita filled their view, like some kind of glowing volleyball.

“How much time do we have, again?” Maggie asked. “Because I think it would take three days to find
anybody
in there.”

Jonathan hadn't been ready for the sheer immensity of the underwater city, either. Maggie, as usual, had great foresight. Jonathan wondered what would happen if their time ran out, and he still hadn't found Lew. He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to make that idea go away.

“Maybe there's a—­UHN!” Something slammed into the back of the sub, thrusting Jonathan and Maggie out of their seats. Jonathan rammed face-­first into the inner shell of the transparent bubble, and Maggie collided into his back, grinding his face harder into the wall. Then they collapsed on the floor of the sub.

Jonathan spit blood, and Maggie got up and looked at Tatsu. Per's crazy arm had apparently kept him in his seat, and the pilot's chair was wedged in behind the other seats in their side of the sub, so both Per and Tatsu had managed to avoid injury. Maggie was groaning but appeared okay.

“What the hell was that?” Maggie yelled.

“He's over there,” Per said. They all looked and saw a larger sub, a single window in the front of the tubular design. Inside the window, they could see the pilot who had just rammed them coming around for another swipe.

“Morgan,” Jonathan said.

L
EW
HAD
RETURNED
wearing the exo suit in half the time it had taken him to get over to the dock. He had been skeptical at first, and it had taken Mikawa several minutes to walk him through how to even put the thing on, but Lew couldn't believe how the contraption made him feel. He rarely mentioned them, but after years of abuse, there were few muscles and joints in Lew's body that didn't ache on a daily basis. But now, almost all of the pain was gone as the suit supported his weight, doing the work his muscles usually had to do. He felt like a kid again, like he could run faster and jump farther than he had in years.

Once back in the storage area where he'd woken up, Lew picked up the burned robot with one hand and tossed it aside like it was made of styrofoam. He couldn't help but laugh at the act. Then he reached in and picked up the remaining body. He slung it over his shoulder.

“Where to now, Mickey?” Lew said, thinking maybe he shouldn't be in such a rush to leave this place. It was devoid of the most annoying thing Lew endured on the surface—­­people. The air was fresh, and the artificial light sure felt like sunshine. If they had cheeseburgers and Guinness, he might be home. And clothes, he thought, still shivering a little.

Mikawa directed Lew to the main tower rising in the center of the landscape. Despite carrying four hundred pounds over one shoulder, Lew started toward the tower and soon found himself trotting through the grass, his feet leaving deep footprints in the turf. It only took him a few minutes to make the journey.

Lew entered the tower through the main lobby. Despite being on the ocean floor, it looked like any other building lobby up on the surface: large open space, smooth shiny surfaces everywhere, a reception desk and two elevators. Lew walked over to the desk, examining a directory and map on display.

“Where are Reese and the two guards now?” Lew asked.


They are still in the research lab, in Dr. Norris's office.

“Dr. Norris? Tell me about Dr. Norris,” Lew said, walking around the reception desk. He spotted a door marked “Authorized Personnel Only” and made a beeline for it.


Dr. Eric Norris. Born May 31, 1975 in Chicago, Illinois, USA. PhD in biology from Duke University, specializing in algal studies. He most recently worked for the Tenabe Group.

“Algal studies?”


The study and application of biological interactions of ocean algae. We can find and cite several of his papers on the subject if you would like.

“No, that'll be fine,” Lew said. “If he worked for Tenabe and has an office down here, where is he?”


Dr. Norris, along with most of his team, has been missing for three weeks, ever since completing the Dead Lights Project. We made inquiries but received no answers.

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