The Burning Skies

go down here.

But something a little more primitive does.

The train now rushing down the tunnel was built to ride magnetic current. But it was also configured for old-fashioned rails—and the wheels that have extended out along each side are making for a far more bumpy ride than any modern mode of transport. Though the two men who just got aboard aren’t complaining.

“And here we are,” says Spencer.

“But where’s that?” mutters Sarmax.

It’s a good question. They’ve dropped from the tunnel ceiling. They’re spread-eagled in their suits, on the roof of the third car back. They’re worming their way into the gaps between the cars.

“Somewhere off the zone,” says Spencer.

But somehow the Manilishi’s still with him all the same. He’s trying to figure out how she’s doing it. He’s guessing that she’s staging in from the end of the maglev rails—broadcasting via wireless down the tunnels. But that seems more than a little risky. Not to mention increasingly difficult as the tunnel steepens and the descent continues …

“The Eurasians rigged a classic tech barrier,” says Sarmax.

“Only way to beat the zone is to end it,” says Spencer. “But where exactly are we going?”

The last of the lights overhead are gone. They’re in total darkness now. The train’s accelerating. Spencer’s not even sure anyone’s really at the helm.

“Where indeed,” says Sarmax. “Any thoughts?”

“I’ve got lots of thoughts. The question is—”

“What the hell the handler wrote down,” says Sarmax.

And Spencer’s making progress. The second part’s definitely a technical treatise. Of that much he’s now sure. Or rather, the Manilishi is. She’s cranking away behind the scenes while he’s struggling to keep up. The specifics are still holding out. But he’s ready to make some guesses.

“There are only so many things it could be,” he says.

“Right,” says Sarmax. “Let’s list out possibilities. Work from there.”

“Well, for a start, how about another breed of nano.”

“Christ, let’s hope not.”

“They’d have had to solve the hack vulnerability.”

“Which won’t have been easy. But I think we’re thinking along the right lines.”

“With nano?” asks Spencer.

“Actually I meant with some kind of zone breakthrough. Look at the sort of hacks that the Rain unleashed. What if the Eurasians were working on similar lines?”

“Then they wouldn’t have let themselves get buttfucked in their Aerie so easily.”

“Maybe,” says Sarmax. “Maybe not. But we’re heading into something that’s been cauterized from the rest of the zone, right? That’s not online, right? Maybe studying the Rain’s incursions allowed the East to put the finishing touches on their own stuff. Or maybe this lot just got caught napping.”

“You could be right,” says Spencer.

“You don’t agree.”

“I think we ignore the physical at our peril.”

“Got something in mind?”

“I’ve got too many things in mind,” says Spencer. “Fifth-generation nukes. Tesla disruptors. Weather control. Anti matter bombs. Gamma ray pro —”

“Half that shit isn’t even possible.”

“Leo. We’re riding a train going Christ knows where beneath the Himalayas precisely because we don’t know what’s possible.”

“But we’re about to find out,” says Sarmax.

And gestures at the faint light that’s growing up ahead.

So what the hell are they heading for?” says Haskell.

“Don’t know,” says the Operative. And how the fuck am I even seeing this?”

“The zone,” he replies.

“But Spencer’s cut off from zone.”

He and Sarmax vanished beyond its edges five minutes ago. There’s been no sign of them since they took the train into the dark. But now this image is wafting through her head. She doesn’t know where it’s coming from. She can’t see why it should even be here. Unless she’s somehow found a way into whatever shard of zone Spencer’s now in. Or—

“You’ll figure it out soon enough,” he says.

“None of this adds up.”

“Not everything does.”

“And the fact that you don’t know what the fuck they’re making for doesn’t make you think twice about starting a war?”

“It doesn’t even make me think once. Because whatever it is, we’re about to take it out.”

“And I can’t do anything save fly cover.”

“Not as long as I’m right here with you.”

She looks at him. He’s just like the Carson she remembers. He’s the man whom time never seemed to age. He’s been with her all this time. Ever since the day when he first came to her. Ever since she asked him how he could possibly teach her anything.

Ever since he told her.

“Why did you sell out to Szilard?” she asks.

He laughs. “You really think that’s what’s going on?”

“You’re saying Lynx isn’t under your control?”

“You think he ever was?”

“You think I can’t see through the game you’re playing.”

“Maybe you should spell it out for me.”

“Your team’s gone rogue. You’re going to hand the Throne over to the Lizard.”

“Along with my fucking sanity? Fuck, Claire. I practically lost my life battling the SpaceCom conspiracy on the Moon.”

“Not the SpaceCom conspiracy, Carson. A SpaceCom conspiracy. One among many that Szilard maintained outside of normal command channels. Only this particular network got infected by Autumn Rain. Szilard tried to use the Rain, and they just ended up playing him. He knew when to cut his losses.”

“He still wants to be president, though.”

“God only knows what contortions he’s going through to keep his game afloat.”

“Nothing anywhere near as contorted as the logic twists you’re putting your own mind through.”

“But that’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“You think so?” he asks.

“You’re testing my capabilities even as you try to figure out what makes me tick. You want me running new theories through my feedback loops, so that you can study me all the closer.”

“Keep talking.”