Gazing down at the multitude of well-dressed SYNs weaving about on the dance floor, he knocked back a mouthful from the tumbler andswallowed, grimacing reflexively. Life was good. But it could always be better.NewCity was a hill, and Lennox was king of that hill. The mayor and policemight as well have been on his payroll. But there were other hills to be conquered,provinces with governors who knew his name and reputation, and that was all.
He held no sway over them.Not yet.
If only he were able to travel through time. Wouldn't that bethe ticket? Go back through the ages, right the wrongs of the past. Orbetter yet, use the mistakes of the past to secure a firm hold on the present.And the future.
Lennox downed another mouthful. The synthetics out there lookedso...human. Despite the fact that they all looked alike, due to thelimited number of models. Ashland said her engineers would be unveiling a fewmore in the coming years, but that mattered little to Lennox. As long as theywere designed to earn and spend credit, they could look like boxy robo-cleanersfor all he cared.
It was strange to think that if the Plague had never beenunleashed upon the world, if those damn Enemybastards hadn't released their bioweapons in thefirst place, then none of these SYNs would even be here. The Pearl would beempty tonight.
"To the Plague," Lennox muttered, toasting what remainedin his glass to the dance floor before draining it.
What if there was a way to go back? Back to a time before thePlague? What if someone were to get his hands on a vial in the early stages ofdevelopment and bring it to the future? After it had been eradicated. After noremnant of the Plague remained, anywhere in the world. That would be somethingelse, wouldn't it? A sure-fire way to make the governors sit up and takenotice. Before they all fell in line.
Crazy thoughts.
Lennox stared into the bottom of the tumbler and marveled at howthe glass magnified his genitals.He considered pouring himself another drink, but hethought better of it. This stuff was good, concentrated, stronger than anythingavailable to the public, and the effects were immediate. He had to make it backto bed as soon as possible. Otherwise, Ashland Solomon, hailed CEO of SYNCorpIncorporated Corporation or whatever it was called, would find him passed outnaked on the floor in the morning.
There were worse fates, he supposed.
Better than being slaughtered by vampyres. Yes, that was true. Betterthan dying of the Plague. Also true.
So he lay down on the plush carpet in front of the panoramicwindow, and within moments, he was snoring soundly, the empty tumbler rollingfree from his limp fingers.
Young Harry's eyes opened to black, and he kicked against the mancarrying him upside down through the darkness.
"Let me go!" he demanded, pounding his fists against theman's back.
"Very well."
Harry felt the man bow forward and lean to the right, and the handon the small of his back was removed.
"You are welcome to walk," the man said.
Harry dropped to his feet and sniffed, wiping at his nose. Hecouldn't see his own hand in front of his face. Weird. Creepy weird.
"Where the hell are we?"
"We are in a subway tunnel," the man said. His voice wasfamiliar.
"You're that monk."
A short pause. "Yes. Kuan Ti—"
"Where are you taking me?"
"It is a long story, Harry."
The voice sounded funny. Clear one second, muffled the next. Harrystuck his fingers in his ears and wiped them around. They came back sticky.
"What's happening to me?" he asked with less fervor now.
"You were...very ill, Harry. You were unconscious for quitesome time."
"Why are we down here?"
"Do you remember," Kuan began, choosing his wordscarefully, "how Mr. Lennox brought us to that other world? That otherreality?"
Harry remembered. The cigarette lighter. The flame. The restroom.The Pit.
"Yeah," he said.
A lighter suddenly spit fire into the darkness. Then the cap clinkedshut.
"We had to get it from him."
Harry nodded. Then he frowned. "Down here?"
"It is where we found Mr. Lennox."
"And he just gave it to you?"
"We need to keep walking," Kuan changed the subject."We are in our own world now, and here the subway trains are still inuse."
Harry's eyes widened. "Right. I'll-uh..." He groped through the darkness until he grabbed hold of the monk's sleeve. "I'llfollow you."
Kuan paused. "Very good." His voice sounded like he'dsmiled.
They trod the tunnel in silence for a few minutes.
"How close are we?" Harry asked.
"Half a kilometer from here, we should see the light from thestation. From there, it is only a short flight of steps to the surface."
"What time is it?"
"Early morning, if I had to guess. Are you hungry?"
Harry was starving. "A little."
"I'll have Brother Yeng whip us up something hot andfilling." He paused. "You do not remember it, but you stayed with usfor a short time at the temple, Harry. When you were very small."
Harry didn't remember. He didn't say anything. Whatmakes you think I want to go anywhere with you, monk? But where else did he have to go? His father was dead. Hismother... He didn't remember her. She'd left them when he was a baby.
"How old are you, Harry?"
"Eleven." He sniffed. Was his nose bleeding?"Why?"
The monk paused. "And your last name is Horton,yes?"
"Yeah." He frowned. Why all these questions?
"We will look after you, Harry. If you like, you may staywith us, at the temple. It was... something your mother would havewanted."
"You knew my mother?"
"Yes. She loved you very much. And your father loved her inequal measure."
"He said..." Harry faltered. "She left us. But henever stopped looking for her. That's why he..." His voice faded, and hewasn't sure whether he'd go on. "It's why he went to The Pearl. To meethim."
A dull glow hovered in the distance.
"Oh?"
"The BackTracker."
Kuan remained silent.
"He can travel through time and stuff. It's all on the Link.He's like a superhero or something. Some people say it's just an urban legend,but Dad says it's for real." He frowned. "He used to say that, Imean. Anyhow, he thought if there was anybody who could help him find my mother, itwould be the BackTracker."
He fell silent. The image of his father's death
