thing as too much ammo.'
Jack couldn't argue with that.
8
Ernst Drexler's caller ID showed nothing but he took the call anyway. You never knew…
'Hello?'
'She's dead.'
No greeting was necessary. He recognized the One's voice, and he sounded… happy.
'Who, sir? The Lady?'
'If only that were so. No, no one you know. She was what one might call an innocent victim. But those are the best kind, are they not? And after all, no one is really innocent.'
'I don't understand.'
'Of course you don't. No need for you to understand any of this. She died just a little while ago, and it was tasty.'
'Tasty…'
'But she was merely an aperitif. The main course comes from the effect of her death on those closest to her… especially a certain someone. It will send him spinning out of control again, and just when he thinks life can do no worse to him, the Change will be upon us.' The One paused-savoring his anticipation? 'This will be wholly delicious.'
'Yes, sir.'
Ernst had no idea what he was talking about.
'When exactly is it due to begin this evening?'
He could mean only one thing: the virus.
'Eight o'clock Eastern Time.'
'Perfect.'
The One broke the connection without another word.
Ernst noticed that his hand was shaking as he laid his phone on the table.
Eight o'clock…
Six hours away… after all this time, all this preparation, the plan-his plan-was about to come to fruition.
And he was terrified.
Terrified it would fail.
Terrified it would work.
If it failed, the One would be furious. He might vent his murderous rage on Ernst, and he would never see the Change.
But did he want to see the Change?
The possibility of success terrified as well.
If bringing down the Internet diminished the already damaged noosphere to the point where it could no longer support the Lady, she would vanish, and with her, the last obstacle to the Change would be removed.
The Change… it fascinated and frightened him.
The end of the world as we know it.
An old and overused expression, and even the title of a once-popular song. But that was what the Change would mean. And he, among all of humanity, would be most responsible for making it possible. For which he would be rewarded.
Humanity consisted of the Moved and the Movers. He would ascend to Mover status-Master status.
But master of what?
What would the world be like after the Change? A different place, to be sure. But in what way? The Order's lore was vague about that. It did say that those who served the One before the change would become his overseers in the aftermath.
Overseeing what?
Those who fought the Otherness swore it would be a place of horror, but who could believe them? They were simply trying to frighten their followers into compliance, just as Christians tried to keep their faithful in line with tales of hell and damnation if they strayed from Church doctrine.
But could they be right?
Ernst had never had the nerve to ask the One what he could expect. Could the Otherness be as inimical to humanity as the enemies said? That didn't seem likely. Else why would the One have spent millennia working to usher it in? Some of the Order's lore spoke of the One transforming with the Change, and his chosen transforming as well so that they could thrive in the new, Otherness-ruled world.
Ernst wasn't so sure now that he wanted the world or himself changed.
All fine and good when it was simply lore, something to expect in a nebulous future. But it was nebulous no more. He stood before the door to that future, waiting for it to swing open…
… terrified of what might step through.
9
After settling Eddie in his new digs-which didn't take much since he had little more than the clothes on his back-and letting him shower and change into the sweatshirt and jeans Weezy had bought him this morning, they hit the streets.
He hadn't been able to empty his bank accounts entirely, but he'd walked away with a load of cash. Jack wanted him to use his remaining credit to confuse anyone who might be tracking him.
So they all hopped the A train at West 4th and took it to 207th Street in the Bronx-the end of the line. There Eddie used an ATM to withdraw some of the cash he'd left in the account. He did some quick shopping and charged some essential clothing, then trained back to the Village.
'I get it,' Eddie said as they dropped off his purchases. 'Next time I train to Brooklyn and buy stuff. And maybe Staten Island after that. Drive them crazy if they're tracking me.'
Jack shook his head. 'Maybe so, but they'll know you're somewhere in the five boroughs. You've only got a few hundred left in the accounts, and we can put that to better use.'
'How?'
'Grab some of your cash and I'll show you.'
They hopped a cab uptown to Ernie's place. The folding sign set on the sidewalk before his narrow storefront said it all. Ernie's I-D All Kinds Passport Taxi Drivers License
Cheap metal and pewter castings of the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty shared the front window display with snow globes of the Manhattan skyline and other souvenirs. A buzzer sounded as they opened the front door. Jack led the way toward the rear of the tiny store, passing a display of DVDs. Eddie stopped, pointing to one of the titles.
'Didn't that just open yesterday?'
Jack didn't bother looking. A Pakistani bootlegger down on 32nd Street kept Ernie supplied with the latest titles.
'Wouldn't be surprised. They're okay, I guess, if you don't mind people standing up and moving about in front of the movie.'
Eddie pointed to a display of Spade, Vuitton, Gucci, and Prada accessories.
'Bootleg too?'
'Not just bootlegs-bootlegs of bootlegs.'
Ernie took pride in never selling anything but knock-offs.
The man himself waited by the rear counter, whippet thin with thick, longish black hair and a nervous tongue
