Ramez Naam - Apex

I don’t have any fucking clue about anything anymore, he realized.

He looked back up at Melanie, found her looking down at her hands. “I’m sorry,” he said gently. “I hope your friend comes out OK. I guess I’ve just uhh… had a bad few months with authority.”

Melanie looked up, and smiled sadly at him. “I know. I’ve watched some of the video. I’m sorry for what you went through.”

Her eyes held his for long seconds. Then she stood.

“I’ve got to go. I’m only here because they shut down Georgetown, but since I’m here I’m helping the EMTs patch people up after Zoe. There’re more people who need me.”

Rangan nodded at that. “It was nice to meet you, Melanie.”

She nodded, packing up things, collecting them in a medical bag.

“It was nice to meet you too, Rangan.” She paused for just a moment, then walked away.

At the door, her hand on the knob, she turned. “Owen’s gonna make it, by the way. He’ll need some new skin grown, but he’ll recover.” She met his eyes. “I’m glad you got those kids out.” Then she smiled. “Speaking of which, I think you’ve got some friends who’ve been waiting to say ‘hi’.”

She opened the door and thoughts hit him, a barrage of thoughts, enthusiastic, friendly, eager, and chaotic, rushing in to greet him.

The boys crowded around his cot, Bobby and Pedro and Tim and Jason and Tyrone, and all of them. Their minds were buzzing with joy and excitement, bombarding him with images and ideas and questions and information faster than he could follow.

…we’re going to CUBA…

…CUBA CUBA CUBA…

…lots of other kids with NEXUS…

…and this new APP can show you MAPS and PICTURES in your HEAD…

…hurricanes come from HOT OCEANS…

…and you can talk like …

…ALFONSO’S BACK…

That shocked him. And there he was, in the back, Alfonso, the boy the ERD had tortured until he’d relented and purged Nexus from his own brain.

“Alfonso,” Rangan said. He reached out, with his hand, with his thoughts, gesturing to the boy, pulling him forward, until Alfonso came up to the front of the little crowd, sat on the stool where Melanie had sat, and held Rangan’s hand.

“How?” Rangan asked. Had his brain somehow recovered?

…gave him more Nexus…

…made him REAL again…

“Everyone’s real!”

It came out more sharply than he intended. And the boys fell silent.

He caught himself. These were just boys. Boys taken away from their parents.

He smiled. “I’m sorry.” He looked around at the boys, sent out love, his joy at seeing them, how much he’d missed them.

Then he gripped Alfonso tighter.

“Alfonso was real when he didn’t have Nexus. He just couldn’t talk to you. He was still a person. He was just more lonely.”

He tried to show them, the bits he’d seen out of Bobby’s eyes, out of Tim’s, of Alfonso crying huddled in the corner, of how that meant Alfonso was sad, just like they were sad sometimes.

He felt Alfonso’s memories seep into the room, felt the experience from Alfonso’s point of view, felt the boys make the connection, just a bit, just a tiny bit. It’d have to do.

Then Pedro broke the moment.

…Did you really have a POLICE CHASE and did they shoot at you and did you BLOW UP a van and ESCAPE LIKE A NINJA like in the NINJA MOVIES…

And then all the boys were pressing on him, excited, curious, and so much like he’d been as a boy.

Show us being a ninja!

Show us blowing up the van!

Show us the police chase!

Their eyes were full of adoration, their minds full of Rangan as some sort of heroic movie version of himself. And somehow, Rangan found himself swept up in their infectious enthusiasm, telling them a story, showing them snippets of the terrifying drive through the storm, of the police car flashing out of the rain, of the terrible spin and tumble of the van, of crawling into the mud and lighting the flare…

And then he realized that he was the adult here.

“Now you have to remember to never play with fire without a grownup! OK! Promise me!”

Did you blow up the BAD COP?!

He winced at that. And then, thinking of Melanie’s words, Rangan heard his own voice explaining, patiently, that police were people too, real people, even if they didn’t have Nexus in their heads, and sometimes they were just confused, or someone had lied to them, or tricked them into doing something bad.

The boys went quiet, absorbing this. And for a while he thought he’d lost them all.

Then Bobby sent to them all, Like how they tricked us into thinking Alfonso wasn’t a real person anymore?

Rangan nodded slowly.

“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe something like that, yeah.”

And then he reached out with his mind, and pulled them all into a hug larger than his arms could ever have encircled.

Abigail waddled down into the cellar some hours later, with Levi behind her, holding his wife’s hand, making sure she didn’t fall.

“Service is over,” Levi announced, smiling, crouching by Rangan’s cot. “Everyone’s gone home. Those that made it out in the first place.”

“And tomorrow,” Abigail said, with a small clap of her hands, “it’s time for you boys to move on, towards your new home!”

CUBA!

CUBA!

Bobby grabbed Rangan’s hand. “We’re going to Cuba!”

Levi’s smile wavered just a little bit. “Well yes you are,” he said. “But the way we have for you boys to get there won’t work for Rangan. So you’re going to have to say goodbye for just a little while.”

A wave of disappointment rushed through them all.

13

Threat Vectors

Sunday 2040.11.04

Pryce experienced the National Security Council meeting as one threat after another, each worse than the last. No threat board ever looked green. She’d learned that early on. But they seldom looked like this.

“…placed a highest priority request for the extradition of Kaden Lane,” the Secretary of State was saying, from one of the giant screens. “Still a very high risk India could pull out of Copenhagen. If they do, it’ll be a complete disaster. They could pull a dozen unaligned countries with them.”

“Our intelligence suggests a Chinese attack on the Burmese island Lane’s flight originated from,” the CIA director said from another screen. “They may have been trying to capture Lane for themselves.”

Admiral McWilliams, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, cut in. “We have direct imagery of Indian forces landing on Apyar Kyun, not Chinese.”

“We should consider an op–” CIA started.

“No,” Pryce said. “The President’s been clear. India, Copenhagen, and Lane are all in State’s bag now. Next topic.”

She was inside Air Force one, in the cavernous Situation Room set behind the President’s suite in the upper deck of the giant double-decker craft. John Stockton was welcome at these meetings, but he was down below, talking to the press that traveled with him, making statements, doing damage control.

He was welcome to that job, Pryce thought.

Hers was keeping the free world safe.

CIA spoke again. “China. We have more confirmation that it’s a coup. Bo Jintao, Minister of State Security, seems to be in charge now. A hardliner. Progressive Politburo members are effectively under house arrest…”

Fleet deployments. Diplomatic response. Human rights violations. Impact on trade agreements. Containment plans. There was always more to discuss than there was time.