person as well as to my information, they’re going to find out that the down-low’s been downloaded to the whole world. Now they can take the chance that they can take me and take me apart with enough ultraprecise butchery to preclude dissemination. They might even pull it off. But I’m guessing they’re going to regard it as far easier to meet me halfway. And I have a few thoughts on how to best ensure that which I’m looking forward to sharing with your bosses.”
“Sounds to me like you’re trying to change our deal.”
“Not at all. I’m just insisting on my interpretation of its terms.”
The train accelerates. The straps tighten. As they do, Spencer’s mouth opens, starts up a conversation. Introductions are made. Small talk begins. The rate of speed of this train, for instance. The economy of the undersea. The temperature in this car. The timing of the next meal. Small talk indeed—insisted upon by Control. The two men have to have a reason to remain alongside one another as they exit the train on the other side of ocean. They have to be talking as they make that exit. Otherwise, if they get shuffled or jostled, they’ve got no reason to drift back toward one another. Of course, Spencer knows that Linehan might drift the other way anyway.
But that’s what the welcoming committee’s for.
“So what exactly is it you want, Linehan?”
“I want what I’ve always wanted, Spencer. I want to be a free agent. I want to give you the information that will make Priam the most powerful data-combine on Earth. And then I want to get out of your hair for good.”
“And that’s it?”
“What do you mean, is that it?”
“What about the means for freedom, Linehan? What about funds? What about an insistence that we don’t track you?”
“Do you think I’d waste my breath? The latter—you’d never keep your part of the bargain. The former—you’d use that to accomplish the latter. No, I’ve got my bases covered, Spencer. I’ve got resources set up for a rainy day. Accounts, IDs, funds—the works. I know those Euro hubs, Spencer. I know the boardrooms. I know the bars. I know the places that are off the zone. Put me into London, and your trackers will be sniffing nothing within the hour.”
Spencer says nothing. Yet even as he does, his lips dish out commentary on these tunnels’ sealed-off southern reaches. He talks about things that everyone knows. How the main line through that segment of the warrens stretches from the mouth of Amazon to the bulge of Africa. How it was closed down when the superpowers set up shop down south. He comments on the long klicks that lie dormant. He speculates that perhaps with enough detente they’ll be opened up again. He says that he looks forward to that day. Linehan agrees.
And persists.
“So what’s it to be?”
“I thought you said I didn’t have power.”
“I did say that. I wasn’t kidding. But I’m going to need you to make sure that someone upstairs understands my position. As soon as we hit Cornwall, you’d better tell your boys what I’ve just told you. And you’d better get me a line to whoever the hell your Control’s control is.”
“You’ll get all the dialogue you want, Linehan. Beyond that, I can’t promise anything.”
“You can’t even promise that,” sneers Linehan.
“I’m on your side, Linehan. I’ve got as much riding on this deal as you do.”
“To be precise: you’ve got more.”
“How’s that?”
“Because if it all falls through, I’ve got at least a chance of evading Priam. You’ve got none. You’ll die for my sins, Spencer.”
“If that’s the price of your confession: so be it.”
Linehan starts to reply—but his words are cut off by a buzzing that suddenly leaps out of nowhere into Spencer’s skull. Spencer holds his face steady, gives no indication that he’s ceased to hear Linehan, that another signal is even now forcing its way into his head. He doesn’t know its source. At first he thinks it’s some viral attack of Linehan’s local node bearing fruit against the odds. He tries to blot it out, switch it off. He tries to stop it. But it overrides him like it knows his own codes. It swells ever louder. Now it’s overwhelming. Now it falls away.
To be replaced by the voice of Control.
“Spencer. Can you hear me?”
“I can,” says Spencer.
“Good. Because you’ve been rumbled.”
“By who?”
“By federal agents. They’re on the train already. More are boarding right now.”
“Boarding? From where?”
“From the vehicles they’ve brought alongside. Behind and in front. You’ve been made, Spencer. They know the names you’re using now. They know exactly where you’re sitting. They’ll be on you any moment.”
“Why didn’t they just bust us at customs?”
“Does it matter? Maybe my hack on security failed. Maybe they wanted you to think you had it made.”
“I was starting to.”
“So stop it. This is moving very quickly. They’ve wasted no time. We can’t either. In sixty seconds, I’m going to strike key elements of this line’s systems. I’m going to go through some back doors and hit some weak points. I suggest you sync with me. Maybe you can make something happen in the confusion.”
“Risking yourself to save us, Control? What’s got into you?”
“Spencer, I need you to concentrate on what matters. I’m downloading the map of this train into your head. Along with a map of the tunnels along the most direct route to border.”
“The border? How in Christ’s name are we getting through that
“For now, why don’t you think about how you’re going to take those feds.”
“
“You may as well try. That man Linehan’s a mech if ever there was one. And you’re my finest razor. You’ve got your backs to the wall. Fight them. Crush them. Take that train. Take it all the way east. This is for real. Forty seconds, Spencer.”
The connection terminates. In its place is static. And the words of Linehan.
“Let me guess: you’ve been talking to your bitch again.”
“Shut up,” says Spencer. “We’ve been made.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“There’s two men in this car I’ve had an eye on ever since they got on. They’re trying to blend in. They’re clearly tracking somebody. And if your Control just told you our number’s up, I guess that means that somebody’s us.”
“Where are they?”
“They’re three seats behind you. Keep looking at me, Spencer.”
“Linehan. Control also said they’ve brought vehicles alongside this one.”
“What kind of vehicles? Where in relation to this car?”
“Behind and in front.”
“Too bad there aren’t windows in this thing. Did Control tell you anything else?”
“That it was going to do a hack on the main line’s systems in exactly”—a momentary pause—“twenty-five seconds.”
“Anything
“That we should take this train and take that border. That we should work together.”
“Goes without saying.”
“Any ideas?”
“I’ve got lots of ideas, Spencer. The problem’s time. At this point, I hate to wait even twenty seconds.”
“Now it’s eighteen.”
“Spencer. Got a question, and I need the truth. Do you have any weapons?”
“No.”
