“You have a strange look on your face,” Space said. “What are you thinking about?”
“How much fun this is going to be.”
Chaos Wind
New York City
The logjam of vehicles was worse at the exit. Two electric cars were wedged fast and had plugged the ramp for everyone else.
Vehicles were stopped three across and ten deep. Many of the drivers were standing around talking or arguing.
“Not even this thing can get through that,” Alf said.
Patrick Slayne didn’t seem to hear him. He flicked a silver toggle switch and there was another loud thunk, this time from under the front end of the Hunster. The hood tilted upward a few degrees.
“What now?” Deepak wondered.
Slayne flicked another toggle switch and said quietly, “Vacate your vehicles. I repeat, vacate your vehicles.”
To Deepak’s surprise, the command was amplified fifty-fold.
Everyone looked at the Hunster in puzzlement or wonder. Only a half dozen or so did as Slayne had instructed.
“Those who haven’t done so, get out of your vehicles. In sixty seconds I am clearing the ramp.”
“How will you do that without hurting them all?” Deepak inquired.
Slayne flicked off the toggle switch and said with the patient air of an adult explaining to a ten-year-old, “As you may have gathered by now, this vehicle is modified for special use. It’s the gem in Tekco’s fleet, the only one of its kind. But then, being the chief exec has its perks.”
“Wait a minute. You’re the head of Tekco Security? You run the whole company?”
“Run it. Founded it. Made it the premier global security firm,”
Slayne said with no small pride.
Alf exclaimed, “That’s where I’ve seen you before! Your picture has been in magazines and on the news.”
Slayne frowned. “It wasn’t notoriety I sought. To be effective in my line of work I need to keep a low profile.” His frown changed to a wry smile. “Listen to me. Talking as if the world will go on as usual.” He shook his head, then flicked the same toggle switch and addressed the hidden microphone. “I’ll give you ten extra seconds. This is your last warning.”
Only a few drivers had complied. Several laughed or smirked as if it were some kind of joke. One man flipped his middle finger.
“There’s our problem, right there,” Patrick Slayne said to Deepak and Alf.
“What is?”
“Stupidity. It’s been the downfall of the human race. Once the stupid ones outnumber the ones who give a damn, society disintegrates.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Hold on tight,” Slayne said, and placed the tip of his finger on a red button low on the dash. “There’s quite a recoil.”
“Quite a what?” Deepak wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly.
Slayne turned the wheel so the Hunster was pointed at a wall to one side of the jam. He pressed the red button. The Hunster thundered and bucked and an explosion rocked the wall. Bits and chunks of concrete flew every which way, some as big as a basketball, most considerably smaller. People screamed. Those not in cars dived for cover.
A swirling cloud of dust enveloped everything.
Deepak peered into it, afraid of what he would see. Gradually the dust began to clear. He saw a few people bleeding but no bodies. Most of the vehicles caught in the hail of concrete had broken windshields and busted windows. “What have you done?”
“I’m getting you out of here.” Slayne accelerated toward a huge hole in the wall. Or, rather, what was left of the wall next to the hole. “Brace yourselves. The battering ram can punch through concrete like it’s paper, but there will still be a jolt.”
There was. The sound was like the blast of a cannon. More of the wall shattered to bits, and through the gaping hole roared the Hunster.
Deepak looked back at the people who had been hurt by flying debris. “What’s the matter with you? Don’t you have a conscience? Do you realize what you’ve done?”
“I didn’t kill anyone.” Slayne turned up a ramp and the Hunster shoved a dust-caked hybrid out of the way with casual mechanical ease.
“Those were people! Living, breathing human beings. You hurt them. We should stop and help.”
“No time. And if you don’t mind some advice, you really should get hold of yourself.”
Deepak tried to release the catch on his seat belt, but it wouldn’t work. He tore at the belt. “Let me out. I’ve had enough.
Tell Kurt Carpenter I no longer want to be part of his Endworld Protocol.”
“The what?” Alf said.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Slayne responded as he steered the Hunster around a compact.
“I’ve changed my mind, I tell you. I have that right. I wish the best for Mr. Carpenter, bur I refuse to have anything to do with you.”
“You’re locked in.”
“I’m what?”
“You stay that way until I decide otherwise.” “You’re insane.”
Patrick Slayne let out a sigh. “I’m one of the most rational people you’ll ever meet, Mr. Kapur.” “It was wrong what you did.”
“The only wrong is not to do the best you can at anything you put your mind to.” “You can’t force me to go.”
“Hold that thought.” Slayne raced around a minivan and the Hunster burst from the bowels of a skyscraper onto East 52nd Street only half a dozen blocks from the East River. He turned right and braked sharply.
Ahead was a scene out of a disaster movie. Panicked people were running every which way. They didn’t bother using crosswalks but darted in front of moving cars and trucks with no regard for their safety. Fortunately, traffic was moving at a crawl, partly due to congestion, and in part because more than a few drivers had abandoned their vehicles and joined the mad rush, their empty cars and trucks adding to the snarl.
Near the river a black column of smoke curled into the hazy sky. To the south was another, only the smoke was gray.
“Why don’t I hear anything?” Alf asked.
Deepak had been wondering the same thing. Save for the muffled throb of the powerhouse under the
