The Impossible Future: Complete set by Frank Kennedy (mini ebook reader .txt) 📕

a network of eight safe houses for Solomon agents pursued for acts of sedition or insurrection. This was the first. But as we grew in numbers – and after we became quiet soldiers in the Chancellors’ civil war – we created bases of operation in the event of a full-on shooting war. We have more than two hundred weapons lockers near major cities. We have supply lines maintained by contact circles who have never used their tech to speak to equity leaders. These members are clean; they’ll never be targeted.

“Once Raimi’s team has cleared us, we’ll establish links to the safe houses. Then we’ll set a plan in motion.”

Raimi tapped his noggin and took a long puff on his pipe.

“Like I said, people, ten to twelve hours. It’s all going to be right here on the admin.” He pointed to Rikard and Matthias. “I’ve known these two fellows a long time. Smartest two cudfruckers around.” Most joined Raimi’s laughter. “They never wanted it to come to this, but they made damn sure we were ready if it did.”

“I’m an artist,” Matthias said. “I design EarthIn terrariums. But I believe in what we’ve earned as human beings, and I’ve killed for that belief. I thought maybe we earned enough thanks from the Chancellors to pay for this without open combat. I’m sorry I was wrong. But I will not lead you to slaughter. I promise.”

Other voices joined in as the conversation deepened, often winding in directions Michael neither understood nor thought relevant. Never once, however, did Sam take a back seat in his mind’s eye. He thought of how hard this universe had worked to destroy them and how close … so damn close … they came to holding off every enemy. Two days ago, Sam headed to a conference designed to change everything for the better. He ate ice cream with a boy who grew up among the stars and needed help to navigate grief. Fiancé, big brother, soon-to-be husband. Damn right we’re gonna have kids.

Now he plotted war strategy against a superior enemy with no idea whether the woman he loved was alive.

“They were always jealous of you, babe,” he said an hour later, standing alone on the balcony. Clouds blotted out the stars, and the mountains were coal silhouettes, barely perceptible. “And I thought James was gonna be our biggest pain in the ass.”

“Talking to yourself?”

He recognized her voice. Silky, demure. She’d kept her distance since arriving. Michael hadn’t spoken to Maya Fontaine, opera singer and part-time assassin, since their encounter at Finnegan Moss’s home following the incident at the Entilles Club.

“It’s good to talk to yourself,” he said. “Don’t you know that?”

“I see the merits. But in my line of work, I conserve my voice.”

“Good thing you’re temporarily unemployed, huh?”

“Michael, look at me.”

He put away his pipe and faced her in the dimmed light. Shadows fell over her features, disguising the tiger who leaped upon a man at Entilles and stabbed him through the heart. He sensed a gentler woman in eyes that met him square.

“I saw your terror in there,” she said. “We’re all frightened. This is literally the fight of our lives. But you’re up for it, even if you aren’t so sure.”

“How? You hardly know me.”

“Michael, we shared a moment together at Entilles. It was savage. But earlier that night, I saw Michael Cooper the man. A gentle soul. A man who makes people laugh. You have a huge heart, and you will not lose your humanity, no matter what you do to survive this war. And she’ll be waiting for you.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t. But I think after a good night’s sleep, you will. Come in now. Tell the others a joke and go to bed. You’ve earned it.”

She caressed his beard. His eyes watered as he sniffled.

“I’m not going out like this.”

“There you go. That’s my soldier. Time for bed. Yes?”

29

Pynn compound

 

T WENTY SOLOMONS WERE SHOT DEAD within a day of the trap being sprung. Vids of their bodies, often surrounded by DayWatch investigators, chased across the public streams and infotainment stacks. They were killed on three continents – some inside their homes, others walking the streets with their families, two felled during firefights with their attackers. The vids nauseated Sam as she flew home to Boston Prefecture, terrified she might see Michael’s blood-spattered remains.

Her fears lessened after contacting Merton Bayfield, her estate manager, and learned how Michael and Rikard raided the armory before fleeing. He had no idea of their destination but assumed they left with a plan. The estate, he said, shored up its security cascade but otherwise maintained an air of normalcy.

“We have distracted the twins,” Merton said of Brayllen and Rosalyn Helmut. “They have no access to the streams.”

“Thank you, Merton. Those kids don’t need any more trauma.”

“Of course, Samantha. I neglected to mention we are down a cook. Helene left to join the Solomon resistance – if that is what we are to call it. I expect to find a suitable replacement within a day. Our kiosks will tide us over in the meantime.”

Sam appreciated Merton’s steadfast efficiency. He took over estate management of Pynn family holdings when she moved to Boston. The wealthiest families valued an EM like Merton, a Chancellor executive and independent contractor who ran major estates like corporate franchises. He acted as advisor, accountant, general manager, and butler.

“Are you OK with this, Merton? I’ve put you in an awful position. Your family must be concerned.”

His beard carried a touch of gray. “You don’t know my family, Samantha. I am far more concerned about you.”

She had not slept in two days. “I can’t imagine how I look. I feel worse, trust me. I just need a meal. A chance to catch my breath. Merton, can you do