hope in all of that.
Hope. Something there seemed to be precious little of in this poisoned and dying world.
But these weren’t the specially selected candidates, quietly informed over a year ago to settle their personal affairs and be ready to be collected and taken to the Exodus facility. It was a random collection of the rich, the
connected
… and, in a few cases, the plain lucky-to-be-grabbed-at-the-last-moment. A poor cross-section of candidates to be sending on such an important mission.
‘So you’re staying, Dr Yatsushita?’
He nodded.
‘You’ll die.’
‘We
all
die eventually, Rashim.’
‘I’ll stay with –’
‘No! There needs to be a project technician with them. As senior technician on the grid, you will have full authority! I will make that official with a data entry.’
Rashim shook his head. ‘Me in charge of them? Look, I’m just a –’
‘There is a mission protocol. Mission jurisdiction. They are all aware of this and signed contracts of agreement to come along. They must accept you as Project Exodus leader.’
Rashim looked across at the vice-president.
‘Yes,’ said Yatsushita, ‘even he must accept you as his …’ The old man paused, smiling. ‘… as his
boss
.’ He nodded at the vice-president, the prince, the dictator and a handful of others – all of them clearly elated to have made it into the facility before the security lockdown.
‘Don’t let any of those parasites become leader, Rashim.’ He smiled sadly. ‘Let this be a proper new beginning for mankind. Eh?’
Rashim nodded, stood up, pushed his chair back on its castor wheels. Beyond the calm of the small enclave of cubicles, the hangar was a riot of noise and activity. Voices raised in confusion, fear, excitement. The clattering of two dozen military combat units weighed down with carbon-flex body armour, weapons and equipment. The whirring of exoskel-kinetic loaders depositing heavy crates of supplies into specially holo-flagged grid markings. The deep rumble of three Mobile Command Vehicles backing into their large grid slots.
Dr Yatsushita reached a hand out and grasped one of his tightly. ‘The military units are programmed to follow the Exodus protocols. They will accept your authority, Rashim, once I’ve logged you in as my replacement.’
‘Dr Yatsushita, please, you have to come. I’m not ready for this.’ Rashim looked at the dictator, the prince, the politiciansand the billionaires. ‘I can’t lead
them
… they won’t accept that.’
The old man smiled. ‘They don’t have any choice in the matter.’
‘You’ll die if you stay. Please, you really need to come –’
‘Everyone who remains behind will be dead, Rashim. This …’ He turned to look over his shoulder at the frantic activity going on behind him. ‘For what it is,
this
is our
only
future now.’
‘This is crazy!’
‘You have to go, Rashim. And you have to remain in charge of Exodus.’ He smiled again, an almost paternal smile. Odd that, coming from the elderly Japanese man. Rashim had always got the impression that Dr Yatsushita hadn’t liked him; that he disapproved of his maverick ways, his disorganized virtual workspace, the messy desk, his personalized lab assistant.
‘I trust you, young man;
you
… far more than I trust any of
them.
’
Rashim swallowed anxiously. He could feel his stomach churning and a desperate need for a toilet visit. ‘OK … O-OK. I’ll … uh … I’ll try.’
Dr Yatsushita clapped him on the shoulder. ‘You’ll do fine.’
CHAPTER 11
2001, New York
‘So, Maddy, let me just check I got this wording correct,’ said the guy on the other end of the line. He was just the kind of help-desk type that bugged her: overfamiliar. Way too friendly. It’s not like they were dating or anything, so why’d he have to keep using her name like they’d known each other since kindergarten?
‘
A soul lost in time
… that right, Maddy?’
She sighed. ‘Yes … so
Hope. Something there seemed to be precious little of in this poisoned and dying world.
But these weren’t the specially selected candidates, quietly informed over a year ago to settle their personal affairs and be ready to be collected and taken to the Exodus facility. It was a random collection of the rich, the
connected
… and, in a few cases, the plain lucky-to-be-grabbed-at-the-last-moment. A poor cross-section of candidates to be sending on such an important mission.
‘So you’re staying, Dr Yatsushita?’
He nodded.
‘You’ll die.’
‘We
all
die eventually, Rashim.’
‘I’ll stay with –’
‘No! There needs to be a project technician with them. As senior technician on the grid, you will have full authority! I will make that official with a data entry.’
Rashim shook his head. ‘Me in charge of them? Look, I’m just a –’
‘There is a mission protocol. Mission jurisdiction. They are all aware of this and signed contracts of agreement to come along. They must accept you as Project Exodus leader.’
Rashim looked across at the vice-president.
‘Yes,’ said Yatsushita, ‘even he must accept you as his …’ The old man paused, smiling. ‘… as his
boss
.’ He nodded at the vice-president, the prince, the dictator and a handful of others – all of them clearly elated to have made it into the facility before the security lockdown.
‘Don’t let any of those parasites become leader, Rashim.’ He smiled sadly. ‘Let this be a proper new beginning for mankind. Eh?’
Rashim nodded, stood up, pushed his chair back on its castor wheels. Beyond the calm of the small enclave of cubicles, the hangar was a riot of noise and activity. Voices raised in confusion, fear, excitement. The clattering of two dozen military combat units weighed down with carbon-flex body armour, weapons and equipment. The whirring of exoskel-kinetic loaders depositing heavy crates of supplies into specially holo-flagged grid markings. The deep rumble of three Mobile Command Vehicles backing into their large grid slots.
Dr Yatsushita reached a hand out and grasped one of his tightly. ‘The military units are programmed to follow the Exodus protocols. They will accept your authority, Rashim, once I’ve logged you in as my replacement.’
‘Dr Yatsushita, please, you have to come. I’m not ready for this.’ Rashim looked at the dictator, the prince, the politiciansand the billionaires. ‘I can’t lead
them
… they won’t accept that.’
The old man smiled. ‘They don’t have any choice in the matter.’
‘You’ll die if you stay. Please, you really need to come –’
‘Everyone who remains behind will be dead, Rashim. This …’ He turned to look over his shoulder at the frantic activity going on behind him. ‘For what it is,
this
is our
only
future now.’
‘This is crazy!’
‘You have to go, Rashim. And you have to remain in charge of Exodus.’ He smiled again, an almost paternal smile. Odd that, coming from the elderly Japanese man. Rashim had always got the impression that Dr Yatsushita hadn’t liked him; that he disapproved of his maverick ways, his disorganized virtual workspace, the messy desk, his personalized lab assistant.
‘I trust you, young man;
you
… far more than I trust any of
them.
’
Rashim swallowed anxiously. He could feel his stomach churning and a desperate need for a toilet visit. ‘OK … O-OK. I’ll … uh … I’ll try.’
Dr Yatsushita clapped him on the shoulder. ‘You’ll do fine.’
CHAPTER 11
2001, New York
‘So, Maddy, let me just check I got this wording correct,’ said the guy on the other end of the line. He was just the kind of help-desk type that bugged her: overfamiliar. Way too friendly. It’s not like they were dating or anything, so why’d he have to keep using her name like they’d known each other since kindergarten?
‘
A soul lost in time
… that right, Maddy?’
She sighed. ‘Yes … so
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