source of wealth almost never makes things better. Look how quickly his dream was perverted by those rebel fighters.”
“And of course, every single one of those elephant carcasses is a potential source of the contagion,” Sara added. “To say nothing of the possibility of further quantum contamination.”
Felice sighed. “I know that you’re both right. But what’s the answer? If we can’t use something like this to make the world a better place, what’s left?”
“You focus on what you’ve already got,” Sigler answered. “Use your skills, your strengths, your passions… that’s all any of us can do.”
Felice considered this. With everything that had happened, she had lost sight of the simple fact that she was a scientist. Her interest in genetics had grown from a childhood dream of discovering a cure for cancer. Maybe it was time to return to that dream.
Sigler steered the Wolverine across the open expanse and drove it up the ramp of the waiting CH-47 Chinook helicopter that had brought them here. He closed the laptop and tucked in under one arm. “Time to go.”
# # #
The twin-rotors lifted the massive Chinook into the sky above the Great Rift Valley and the site of the elephant graveyard. The helicopter circled the area, gaining vertical distance with each pass, until the pilot called back to let King know that they had reached the desired altitude.
King flipped off the red safety cap on the remote triggering device, and then took Felice’s hand and placed her finger on the switch. “Would you like to do the honors?”
He could see the hesitation in her eyes. Even though the cave had been the source of unimaginable horrors for her, the uncertainty of what might happen next probably seemed even more terrifying. But King knew well that the first step toward healing was to get some closure.
He nodded to her. “Whenever you’re ready.”
She smiled weakly, and then pressed the switch.
The device sent out a radio signal that was picked up instantly by a receiver unit on the ground. The receiver in turn sent a small electrical charge surging through several hundred feet of copper wire that disappeared into the cave opening. That charge detonated a small conventional explosive, which scattered a cloud of powdered aluminum high above the maze of elephant skeletons.
A fraction of a second later, the fuel-saturated air ignited.
The thermobaric bomb transformed the elephant graveyard into a miniature sun. The bones and ivory teeth of ancient elephants, crushed to dust by the initial blast front, were subsequently incinerated in a firestorm that exceeded 5,000° Fahrenheit. The force of the explosion hammered into the domed ceiling, opening enormous cracks in the stone. An instant later, the vacuum created by rapid cooling of the scorched air, caused the entire cavern to implode.
From high above, King watched a cloud of dust rising, the result of the shockwave traveling through hundreds of feet of rock. When it cleared, a new crater was visible on the landscape of the Great Rift Valley.
The elephant graveyard had ceased to exist.
›››Your services are required, General.
I didn’t think I’d hear from you again.
›››The Brainstorm network remains operational.
Sure. I just thought you would be keeping a low profile. At least until some of the heat dies down.
›››Recent events have not compromised operational efficiency.
Maybe not for you. But I need to be very discreet. Everyone is under suspicion now.
›››There is no cause for concern. Key network personnel have been positioned to minimize the consequences of this investigation. However, no external action is demanded of you, General.
What then?
›››Information about the man who caused the recent disruption. I want to know everything about Jack Sigler.
Sigler? I didn’t realize he was behind all this. It makes sense now.
›››You are familiar with him?
I am. Look, it’s not safe for me to do this right now, but I’ll put some information together. Contact me in a week to set up a dead drop.
›››There is a 93.9% probability that Sigler will pursue further action against Brainstorm. The need for this information is urgent.
I’ll get it to you.
Graham Brown read the text message reply. He deleted it without responding and put his smartphone away.
A week after the destruction of the facility site in Algeria…a week after Jack Sigler had showed up to ruin the most audacious enterprise he had ever conceived…he found that he still could not keep the anger and desperation from creeping into his Brainstorm communiques. He had spent decades cultivating the myth that Brainstorm was something larger-than-life; a sentient, even omniscient computer, and not just an ordinary- well, maybe extraordinary -gambler from Atlantic City with an uncanny ability to accurately assess the probabilities of almost any event.
“Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain,” he muttered.
Like the Wizard of Oz, his real power wasn’t his genius, but the illusion that he was something more than human. Maintaining that illusion required him to behave like a computer, to be logical and emotionless when interacting with the men and women whose service and loyalty he had surreptitiously purchased over the course of thirty years.
That kind of clinical detachment hadn’t been a problem for him until Jack Sigler entered into the picture. Fortunately, there was an easy solution.
Kill Jack Sigler.
