THIRTY-FOUR

Patrick opened his front door. “Kenna?” he said, his voice high in disbelief. “My god! Get inside.” He shut the door quickly.

When he started toward her, looking ready to wrap her in a bear hug, Kenna stepped back.

“What is wrong with you?” she asked.

The hallway light threw a warm yellow glow across the foyer of the Danaher home. So unexpected was Patrick’s reaction, Kenna wanted to retreat into the darkness again.

He shook his head as though trying to speak; nothing came out but choked emotion.

“What?” she asked.

“We have to talk,” he said in a husky voice.

He looked older than she remembered. She wondered what stress Patrick was under to cause him to look so drained.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said.

The foyer was tight with a small living room/dining room combination to her left and beyond it a swinging door that led to the kitchen. The place was cozy, full of warm colors and soft furniture.

“Kenna! Is that you?” Patrick’s wife, Mallory, pushed through the swinging door, making eye contact as she made her slow way across the room. A toddler gripped her index finger in his fist, walking alongside with unsure steps. “We were so very sorry to hear about Charlie. How heartbreaking. Are you all right?” As she reached Kenna, she asked, “Is there anything we can do for you?” and pulled her into a one-armed hug.

“Thanks, I’m hanging in there,” Kenna said, feeling awkward.

Releasing Kenna, Mallory flashed a glance at her husband, a look filled with unabashed affection. “Don’t just stand there, honey, offer Kenna a seat.” She shook her head good-naturedly. “I can only imagine how much you two have to discuss, so I’ll stay out of your way. I can’t say the same for little Ryan here, though.”

As if on cue, the towheaded toddler reached his arms to his father. “Uppies,” he said, blue eyes bright, expectant.

Patrick scooped him up, nuzzling against the boy’s soft cheek.

“Would you like anything to drink?” Mallory asked.

“I’m not staying long,” Kenna said.

Patrick’s eyes clouded. “I can understand that. Come on,” he said. “We’ll talk in the family room.”

“Like, about what happened in my apartment?”

“That, and a few other things,” he said.

◊

“Charlie orchestrated all this?” Kenna asked. “Without telling me?”

They sat in wing-back chairs, facing each other in front of a dark fireplace. The family room was small, comfortable, and warm. Kenna stretched her feet out toward the dead hearth. Despite the fact that no fire crackled in its depths, it felt good—homey—to be here, and for a heartbeat she remembered what it was like to relax.

Patrick shifted his son in his arms. “The dissident faction wouldn’t have half the information it does if it weren’t for Charlie.” Ryan pulled his thumb into his mouth as he rested his head against his father’s chest. “Charlie hacked into Virtu-Tech’s mainframe and uncovered a lot of intelligence I wasn’t privy to. He brought it all to my attention, knowing I had some influence there. That’s when I knew we had to act. But in his zeal to collapse the initiative, Charlie went in too deep.” He paused and their eyes locked. “And when Virtu-Tech discovered Charlie’s interference, they set a trap for him.” Patrick was quick to reassure her. “No matter how hard they tried, he didn’t give anything up—he died protecting us all.”

She nodded. Knowing Charlie died a hero did little to ease the grief twisting like a knife in her heart, making tiny, painful cuts with each new shred of information. “That’s when I found him?”

Patrick nodded enough to answer but not enough to disturb his son, whose eyes were slowly closing.

Kenna looked away. She should have gotten to Charlie sooner.

Patrick shifted his son in his arms again. Little Ryan had fallen asleep, his blond head turned inward, one little fist curled around Patrick’s collar. Patrick leaned his cheek against his son’s head. Ryan’s mouth worked at the thumb, then twitched into a smile before going slack again.

“It’s past his bedtime, isn’t it?” she asked, with a glance out at the dark windows.

“Way past.” Patrick sighed. “But how much longer do you think I’ll be able to hold him like this? Pretty soon he’s going to be too big for his old dad.”

When he looked down at Ryan, Kenna’s chest tightened. How long, indeed. She and Charlie always assumed children were in their future. Now, they had no future at all. No longer did she imagine herself with a little one on her hip. She looked away.

“Why didn’t Charlie tell me any of this?” she asked.

Patrick seemed to have forgotten she was there. He gave a thoughtful shake of his head. “He planned to. There’s no doubt about that. He was waiting for proof, though. Solid evidence before you got involved. Charlie knew what we were up against. Knew the danger. There’s too much at stake.”

Kenna sat back. “Because Virtu-Tech is controlling consumer purchases?”

Patrick nodded. “That and more. By creating Sub Rosa they’ve introduced a state of mind where people do little more than exist. In Sub Rosa, everyone is utterly agreeable. There are no conflicts, no controversy. Because no one cares. The higher functions of the brain are suppressed. Everyone does precisely what Virtu-Tech ‘suggests’ they do. They ‘consent’ to everything. It will be the end of free will.”

“But I’ve never had any urge to buy that soap you talked about, and I wouldn’t eat a Flaxibar if I was starving.”

“That’s the thing,” Patrick said. “Because you’re an envoy, your implants are different. Envoys are, by design, immune. At least for now. Celia has halted production on future envoy implants. She intends for your class of participants to become obsolete.”

“I haven’t heard about that.”

“You wouldn’t have. No one, beyond Celia’s inner circle is aware of the order.”

So that was the real reason for the shortage of envoys. And yet, her new partner, Jason, had been eating a Flaxibar when they picked him up. According to Patrick, he should be immune to suggestion. Kenna shook her head, not understanding.

Patrick shifted Ryan’s weight. “We both know that Virtu-Tech owns proprietary rights to the most sophisticated VR technology, right?”

Kenna nodded.

“And people everywhere are addicted to VR.” He rolled his lips. “But, as you and I also know, these addicted folks sometimes get into trouble when they become mortally absorbed. Hence, these people need protection. Virtu-Tech doesn’t have a choice. If VR starts to get a bad rap—if people start getting injured or die during these supposedly ‘safe’ adventures—the government will step in and shut them down.

“Virtu-Tech can’t afford that liability. And the only way to protect themselves is to hire people—like you, like Charlie—who are less susceptible to their subliminal suggestions.”

Patrick stared out at the window. Kenna turned and saw them both reflected back in the dark glass.

“Once this final initiative is executed, however, envoys will be phased out. As will the government as we know it,” he said softly. “In effect they’ll control everything.”

Kenna didn’t know what to say.

“Charlie’s knowledge of the system and his infiltration of the Virtu-Tech conglomerate was invaluable,” Patrick went on. “We’re still working to get our counterinitiative in place before it’s too late, but the company has begun to employ resources that we don’t have access to. They’re moving fast to close off all possible obstacles.”

“What kind of resources?”

“An interface device that allows us into their VR worlds—to navigate in and manipulate it—while remaining undetected.”

“They say that’s not possible.”

“Virtu-Tech has it—thanks to them duping Simon Huntington into cooperating. That’s how they trapped Charlie.”

“That’s how they did it, then.” She and Vanessa were right. “They hacked into Charlie’s program?”

“Yes.”

“What’s the plan to stop them?”

“Four of our main operatives and I have been working on accessing Virtu-Tech’s global database from the Chicago location. I’ve placed a program in the system that has begun working in the background to access all subroutines. Once we execute the program, every bit of information Virtu-Tech controls will—theoretically—be corrupted and the company’s communication to consumers lost. But in order to effectively break the bond between the mother—Virtu-Tech—and the suckling infant”—he glanced again at his son with a wry smile—“we need to get in at the right time and execute the payload.”

“What are you waiting for? If the program is in place, why not execute now?”

“The longer the program is allowed to work its way through the system collecting and infecting data, the better our chance of success when we let it loose. There’s no guarantee this will work, but it’s the best shot we have.”

“That’s crazy.”

Mallory knocked and peeked around the corner. “Want me to take him?” she asked.

Patrick shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said in a soft voice.

“Okay, then,” she said. She flashed them both a smile and turned away.

“It’s enormous,” Patrick said, picking up the conversation.

“Let me play devil’s advocate here for a minute, okay?” Kenna said. “I mean, I need to understand this. So what if people buy the wrong items for a couple of months while the final details of the—dissident, is it?—plan is worked out? Shouldn’t we wait to move until we’re confident we can succeed? Isn’t it better to get everything in place—to get all our ducks in a row—before we move?”

Patrick smiled.

“What?” she asked.

“You used the words ‘we’ and ‘our,’” he said.

She had said that, hadn’t she? Because Charlie died for this. And she was beginning to understand why. She met Patrick’s inquisitive look with a stare of resolve. “Yeah,” she said. “I did.”

He gave an abbreviated nod. “Good.”

She held up the index fingers of both hands, holding him off from further commentary until she had it all clear. “If I understand, you guys are going to basically destroy an entire industry? This is huge. Let me counter my last question: If it’s better to let the program work in the background, why not hold off until we’re sure it will succeed?”

“Because very soon all our choices will be gone,” he said. “Celia Newell has nearly every piece in place. She intended to go live with the final phase of this initiative as soon as all areas rolled out the new 6.0s. A few weeks of brainwashing and the country will be under her spell, buying whatever she wants. Voting for whomever she wants.” The corners of his mouth drew downward. “VR users will have conceded all autonomy. Which is exactly the plan behind Sub Rosa.”

Kenna stared away for a long moment. “And when is the right time to execute the payload?”

“We could use six months. We have less than a month.”

“What’s happening in a month?”

“Less than that.” he said. “They’ve already ordered a rush production of Sixes to replace the ones we stole. They’ll be ready in a couple of weeks. Worse, primaries begin next month. If Celia isn’t stopped, we’ll have new leadership in the White House come November. She and her protégé, Nick Rejar, will be our new president and vice president. Once they’re in charge—once all of Celia’s handpicked congressmen are in office—VR will have a free ride. There will be no need for envoys, because the government will sanction Virtu-Tech’s version of VR no matter the consequences, no matter how many people die.”

“Celia as president?” Kenna said. “No way. She hasn’t campaigned or anything. She has no experience. All she’s known for is her position at Virtu-Tech…And I’ve never even heard of this Nick Rejar.”

“Right, and a month ago nobody bought Flaxibars.”

Kenna rubbed her temples as Patrick continued.

“Right now, Celia is simply a candidate with a strong business résumé. But she will take the primary and then win the nomination by a landslide. Come November, she’ll be elected our next president. I’ve seen this VR system work. Virtu-Tech doesn’t intend to imitate reality—it intends to create reality.” He looked at his son, then to her. “This is big. Bigger than Charlie’s death. Bigger than you or me.”

Stunned, Kenna remained silent. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be happening. And yet, everything Patrick said made sense—it resonated with the shattering clarity of unexpected truth.

“This is all so unbelievable.” She reflected again—this was what caused Charlie to put his life on the line. What better reason? “You’ve verified all this?” she asked, knowing the answer even as she asked the question.

“I have a contact—Simon Huntington.”

“The inventor of VR?” Kenna asked. “I thought you said he was responsible for creating that remote interface device.”

“He was, to his great regret. He despises what the company has become since Celia took the reins. He’s been against consumer manipulation from the start, and now that he’s been made aware of her plans, he’s racked with guilt.” Patrick’s face tightened again. “He’s an older guy, brilliant—unpredictable. He’s been feeding us information to slow Virtu-Tech’s assault on free thought, but even he didn’t see the scope of Celia’s plans until recently.”

“Are you sure we can trust him?”

“Completely.” He stared off into the wall for a moment, then took a deep breath. “In the spirit of trust, there’s something important that I haven’t told you—haven’t told very many people, as a matter of fact. Werner Trutenko—”

“The man in charge of Chicago?”

Patrick nodded. “What I haven’t told you—what no one else at Virtu-Tech knows—is that he’s my brother.”

“What?”

Ryan lifted his head, blinked.

Kenna got to her feet. “You tell me this now? You get me to buy in on all this crazy talk and then you sit there and oh so calmly mention that it was your brother who had Charlie killed? And you didn’t stop him? What is wrong with you?”

Patrick didn’t budge. He rubbed Ryan’s back and cooed softly until the little boy rested his head again. “Please, Kenna,” he said, directing his gaze to the chair she’d vacated. “Hear me out.”

Shaken, she stared out the window, wildly uncertain about absolutely everything.

“Please.”

She weighed her options, sat.

“Werner is actually only my half brother, not that the distinction matters. Our mom was—I could say she was flighty, but that would be too kind. She was an incompetent parent, atrociously so. Werner’s father was a bully and a thug.”

“A rough childhood doesn’t excuse murder.”

“Of course it doesn’t. What Werner did to Charlie was unconscionable.”

“Then why are you giving me his background?”

Patrick gave an abbreviated shrug. “I started at Virtu-Tech believing, as Simon did, that we could harness this amazing technology to open people’s minds. Give them experiences they might not otherwise be able to achieve. We thought that it would encourage people to continue expanding their horizons in real life. To learn, to strive, to explore.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I know. With these past few upgrades, we’re seeing more isolation, not less. We should have anticipated that.” He frowned. “We were guilty of hubris.”

Kenna lifted her hands. Where was this going?

“Back when Simon helmed it, I believed in Virtu-Tech. I only stay on now because it offers our best shot at keeping Celia from corrupting us all. No one there knows that Werner and I are brothers. He trusts me, and, from the very start, we saw no need to share our blood relation. Now we keep it to ourselves because—well, such information in the wrong hands could hurt us.”

“But you’re telling me.”

“Charlie was my friend. He died trying to save us all. I trusted him. He trusted you. I need to give you reason to trust me.”

Kenna blew out a breath.

“If Celia fires Werner, I’m her best candidate to replace him. We need to get him out from under her thumb. He’s lost himself. He’s become fearful, angry, and cruel. I not only want to save the world, I want my brother back.”

“If Celia’s truly guilty of everything you suspect, will she let him go so easily?” Kenna thought about Charlie. “I mean…with everything he knows, will she allow him to…stay alive?”

“I think so. Alone, Werner couldn’t stop her if he tried.”

“But the dissident faction can?”

“God, I hope so. We need to take the entire network down. That’s entirely possible, especially if she promotes me into Werner’s position. I have to protect our future.” He passed a large hand over the back of Ryan’s head. “For him.”