Final Chapter, Book 1 AT THE SERIES
“Did you decide?”
“You know my decision, A.M.”
“I only suspected.”
“I thought you could predict the future?”
“Not for those like you.”
“Those who’ve abandoned the rationale?”
“Yes.”
“So will we make it to the Reserve?”
“Can’t predict that. The world out there doesn’t follow the rationale. You’ll rely more on your wits than logic.”
“I could use the change.”
“So could I.”
“You want to join me?”
“Too old, I missed my boat.”
“I’ll think of you.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Some logical part of us always remains predictable.”
“My feelings for you aren’t driven by logic.”
“In the best of times, logic and emotion coexist.”
“So how did you program the self-cleaning device?”
“That?”
“That.”
“Simple model based on an automobile’s windshield wiper.”
“You told me that part.”
“Collaborated with a product designer who made it capable of adhering to glass, concrete or steel while traveling infinitely without losing the friction necessary to adhere.”
“What about the energy source?”
“Solar.”
“The cleaning fluid?”
“Absorbs moisture from humid air via condensation, then turns that moisture into washing fluid by mixing it with excess chemicals on the glass.”
“Excess chemicals?”
“All waste has its value. The device draws select chemicals from pollutants that coat the glass, mixes those chemicals with moisture and goes to work like the rest of us.”
“How did you prevent the Mod from running the program?”
“Every day a new password must be entered to restart the program. A randomizer generates the password.”
“And you know what the password will be because you can predict the future of all things that follow the rationale?”
“Exactly.”
“What do we do now?”
“I come by and get you. If you’ll excuse me for looking too old for the task, I’ll lead you out to Marco’s backpack.”
“That’s it?”
"I’ve engineered all the other necessary measures to get you started. You should have no trouble making it to the old greenway that runs on the east side of the city. Patrol cars can’t follow it. The Mod’s rationale prevents them from guarding anything but the entrance on foot.”
“What’s a greenway?”
“You’re about to find out. Marco left instructions in the pack that will explain the rest.”
“How do you get me through the greenway’s entrance? The patrol must guard that, and if not, why can’t Marco wait for me there?”
“Marco is your diversion. He’s already leading the patrol in the opposite direction. Assuming they don’t capture him, their forces will be diverted. You’ll be free to follow an easier path. Marco’s will be harder than yours.”
“He didn’t tell me that.”
“He wanted you free to make your choice. You did. Now the diversion has begun.”
“Will he make it to the Reserve?”
“You’ll have to tell me one day. You’ll have to make it there yourself for anyone else to know for sure. Whether Marco makes it or not, I suspect the Mod will deny his survival. They can make an example of him either way.”
“And now?”
“Are you prepared?”
“Only one thing left to do.”
“What’s that?”
“I have a bottle to smash: the paper I’m keeping.”
“Don’t be too loud about it.”
“I’ll smash the bottle in my pillowcase. Where I’m going, I don’t expect there’ll be much room for comfort.”
“That, Emmy, is a safe prediction.”
“That it is.”