an incredible coincidence indeed! Deucalion assumed that he was destroying Victor, when instead he was preventing more flawed models of the New Race from being produced, forcing Victor to use only the vastly improved creation tanks at the farm. Synchronicity had corrected the error. And no doubt synchronicity would deal with Deucalion, as well, and clean up other minor annoyances — Detectives O’Connor and Maddison, among others — that might otherwise inhibit Victor in his ever more rapid march toward absolute dominance of all things.
With Victor’s unstoppable drive for power, with his singular intellect, with his cold materialism and his ruthless practicality, and now with synchronicity on his side, he had become untouchable, immortal.
He was immortal.
He took the elevator from the parking garage to the tank fields on the main floor. When the doors opened and he stepped through, he found the entire staff, sixty-two of the New Race, waiting for him, as throughout the ages commoners have gathered along streets to bask in the glory of passing royalty or to honor great political leaders whose courage and commitment those drudges of the proletariat could never hope to match.
Having stood in the rain while the synchronistic Harker mutant had killed Chameleon, Victor was disheveled as no one had ever seen him. On any other day, he might have been keenly annoyed to be seen in a sodden and rumpled suit with his hair disarranged. But in this hour of his transcendence, the condition of his wardrobe and hair did not matter, because his elevation to immortality was clearly evident to this audience, his radiance undiminished.
How they goggled at him, abashed by his wisdom and knowledge, mortified by their ignorance, overawed by his godlike power.
Raising his arms and spreading them wide, Victor said, “I understand the awe in which you hold your maker, but always remember that the best way to honor him is to bend more diligently to his work, give of yourselves as never before, commit every fiber of your being to the fulfillment of his vision.”
As they came forward, Victor realized that they intended to lift him high and bear him to his office, as throughout history so many enraptured crowds had borne returning heroes through streets to halls of honor. Previously, he would have chastised them for wasting his time and their own. But perhaps this once, considering the momentous nature of the day’s events and of his ascendance to the company of the immortals, he would indulge them, because allowing them to attend him in this way, he would surely be inspiring them to greater efforts on his behalf.
CHAPTER 68
Jocko in despair. Rain-soaked. Feet pulled up on the passenger seat. Thin arms around his legs. Baseball cap turned backward.
Erika behind the wheel. Not driving. Staring at the night.
Victor not dead. Should be but not.
Jocko not dead. Should be but not. Total screwup.
“Jocko is never gonna eat another bug,” Jocko said.
She just stared at the night. Said nothing.
Jocko wished she would say something.
Maybe she would do the right thing. Beat Jocko to death. He deserved it. But no. She was too nice. Typical Jocko luck.
There were things he could do. Put down the power window. Stick his head out. Power the window up. Cut off his head.
Erika said, “I’m programmed for obedience. I’ve done things I knew he wouldn’t approve of — but I haven’t actively disobeyed him.”
Jocko could take off his T-shirt. Tear it in strips. Pack strips in his nose. Roll up his cap. Stuff it down his throat. Suffocate.
“Something’s happened to me tonight,” she said. “I don’t know. Maybe I could drive right by the farm, maybe just drive and drive forever.”
Jocko could go into woods. Prick a thumb. Wait for wild pigs to smell blood, come and eat him.
“But I’m afraid to pop the parking brake and drive. What if I can’t pass the place? What if I pull in there? What if I’m not even able to let you go free on your own?”
Jocko raised one hand. “May I say?”
“What is it?”
“Jocko wonders if you have an ice pick.”
“Why do you need an ice pick?”
“Do you have one?”
“No.”
“Never mind.”
She leaned forward. Forehead on steering wheel. Closed her eyes. Made a thin, sad sound.
Should be possible to commit suicide with a tire jack. Think about it. Think. Think.
“May I say?”
“Say what?”
“See Jocko’s ear?”
“Yes.”
“Is ear hole big enough, he could fit in the end of your tire jack?”
“What in the world are you talking about?”
“Never mind.”
With sudden determination, she released the parking brake. Put the 550 in gear, drove out of the rest area.
“Are we going somewhere?” Jocko asked.
“Somewhere.”
“Will we go past a high cliff?”
“No. Not on this road.”
“Will we cross any train tracks?”
“I’m not sure. Why?”
“Never mind.”
CHAPTER 69
As Victor consented to the attentions of the adoring crowd, he realized that in addition to the staff of the tank farm, Deucalion was also present, and Detectives O’Connor and Maddison, as well.
How brilliant he had been to foresee that very soon synchronicity would restore balance to his world, correct all errors by the mechanism of astonishing coincidence. The very presence of his first-made and the detectives confirmed his elevation to the status of an immortal, and he looked forward to seeing by what meaningful coincidence they would be killed.
He still carried a pistol in a shoulder rig, under his suit coat, but it would be beneath him to shoot the trio himself, for he was now not merely the singular genius he had always been, but also such a paragon of reason and logic that the most powerful forces in the universe operated for his benefit. Self-defense was a necessity of the common herd, of which he had never been a member and from which he was now even farther removed. Synchronicity and no doubt other recondite mechanisms would come to his assistance in dazzling and unexpected ways.
Many hands lifted him off the floor, and he thought his people might carry him seated upright on their shoulders, like a Chinese emperor of old was transported aloft in an ornate chair, might carry him to his office where the great work would continue, greater even than everything he had heretofore accomplished. But in their
