Against Gravity

This elevator was glass-walled. Once above the underground area of the complex they were soon rising past the treetops.

Kendrick glanced downwards to see the path leading to the great stone steps that they had climbed minutes earlier. At that point he'd caught a glimpse of a tall glass-sided building rising way above – though mostly hidden among – the ruins of this lost city in the jungle. Clearly, he was now inside it.

Finally Smeby ushered him into a room so large that it took Kendrick a second to register that it was a single office. An enormous granite mural took up the entirety of one wall. It was covered with carvings of intricate-looking Asian deities, the images telling stories that had lain hidden for centuries.

Compared with the rest of the complex's interior, air-conditioned though it was, Draeger's office was cool to the point of chilliness. A huge desk faced the door they had entered by, half a dozen seats arranged round it. Beyond it Kendrick noticed several low leather couches set close to the windows that gave a panoramic view across the Cambodian jungle.

He recognized instantly the man standing by the desk. Max Draeger was wearing slate-grey dress trousers and an open-necked salmon-coloured shirt. His face was very familiar from newspapers, eepsheets and grid docs, but particularly from the trial documents that Kendrick had once been so well acquainted with.

"Thank you, Marlin. That will be all." Draeger's voice carried so easily across the big room that Kendrick wondered if the acoustics had been optimized in some subtle way. Smeby nodded briefly and retreated back into the elevator. Kendrick wondered if it was his imagination but it seemed as though Smeby looked rather relieved to be going.

"Mr Gallmon." Draeger stepped towards him. When Kendrick fought back his own reticence and took the man's hand an awkward silence followed.

"You look like the heat's got the better of you," said Draeger eventually with a practised smile. "I have some freshly squeezed juice here."

"Thanks, but no."

Kendrick nevertheless followed Draeger over to a chilled drinks cabinet that stood alongside the vast mural where gods warred across the wall of Draeger's office.

For a moment Kendrick paused to study the figures that lurched and capered there. Then he turned to Draeger. "They don't mind you taking over this… place?"

"Angkor Wat? No, we're helping to preserve it – the surrounding area as well. Strictly speaking, this is Angkor Thom. It's a little way from the main complex. My colleague Marlin brought you here by the passages that link them."

"And you built all this new stuff?"

"Not at all," Draeger replied. "A substantial part of the complex was built about four decades ago as a military biochemical research facility. Without the involvement of any of my subsidiary interests, I hasten to add."

"Really? You're saying this used to be some kind of military base?"

"Long before I was on the scene, yes. Cambodia was hit badly by the knock-on effects when the Pacific Rim wars turned nuclear. After we've left this place, as we one day will, there will be no sign at all that we've ever been here. Everything we've brought or added to Angkor Wat is based on sustainable technology. The new buildings are designed with a maximum lifespan of just forty to fifty years. After that, if for any reason we're not here to do anything about it" – Draeger smiled as if to illustrate how ridiculous such a notion was – "the jungle will reclaim them."

Draeger sounded like a salesman who hadn't yet got to the main pitch. Kendrick spotted a bottle of Wild Turkey nestling by the freshly squeezed fruit juices, and without asking permission he poured a finger into a tumbler. He drank it down and felt a different kind of warmth flow through him. Dutch courage, he decided, was better than none at all.

"But you didn't need to build here," Kendrick pointed out. "Surely a lot of the people working with you are prime targets for kidnap and extortion even in Cambodia, let alone in other nations nearby."

"Terrorism is a fact of modern life," Draeger replied. "But it's not my main concern. Cambodia has made good use of our expertise and knowledge in recent years."

Kendrick nodded. He had to keep cool, find out what Draeger wanted – what had been important enough to ferry Kendrick all the way out here.

"But working here isn't without its dangers, is it?"

Draeger's expression remained carefully noncommittal.

Kendrick continued: "In some ways, it's more a case of circling the wagons than of genuinely integrating yourself into the local economy. Cambodia is benefiting from your presence, sure, but there're a lot of countries in this part of the world who wouldn't want anything to do with you."

"Circling the wagons – I like that. It's a phrase you've used in quite a few of your articles, isn't it?"

Kendrick opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, caught off guard.

Draeger nodded. "And everything you've just said is pretty much the same as you wrote in many of those articles. I know what you think of me, Mr Gallmon. It's true that since the US collapsed as a unified entity finding our way in other parts of the world has not been easy. I'm sure" – he raised an eyebrow – "that's an experience many of us share."

"But why here?" Kendrick insisted. "Why the middle of a jungle? Why not choose a city?"

"It's a matter of philosophy. The beliefs of the people who originally built Angkor Wat have certain resonances with my own view of the universe. Perhaps you're familiar with some of my ideas?"

"Only a little. But then, I'm not a mathematician."

"You don't have to be. Mathematics is just a way of expressing universal truths. You don't need to be a mathematician to understand those truths, only to prove them."

"All right, then, so why did you build the Archimedes? To find God, as some say?"

Draeger laughed. "I can't imagine where you heard such a ridiculous notion."

"During the Wilber Trials, it became clear that you built the Archimedes in order to satisfy President Wilber's religious… impulses." Draeger shook his head and chuckled, but Kendrick persisted. "You stated during those trials that you realized Wilber was schizophrenic even before his arrest. But that didn't stop you building the Archimedes for him."

"This is all very entertaining, but isn't it time that you asked me what you really want to ask me? There's nothing I could tell you about the Wilber Trials, standing here, that you couldn't find out from any number of records concerning those trials."

"All right, then: why did you bring me all this way? What's the purpose of my trip?"

Draeger studied him calmly. "What I want, Mr Gallmon, is information."

"Information? Of what kind?"

"Information concerning Labrats. Specifically those, such as yourself, who spent time in Ward Seventeen."

Kendrick took a deep breath. "You know exactly why I'm here. Smeby claimed that you had a cure, that you could… get rid of my augmentations. I want to know if that's true."

Draeger nodded to himself and took a sip from his own drink. His gaze wandered towards the vast mural.

"Entirely correct, Mr Gallmon. Entirely correct."

Exact date unknown: 2088 The Maze

As soon as Stenzer had shut the door on him Kendrick was hustled down several steep and narrow flights of stairs. One of his two guards slammed another door open and he was dragged into what appeared to be an underground garage.

He could see only one vehicle, however: a regulation-green truck parked near a steep ramp leading upwards.

The subterranean space was dark and chilly, the damp air filled with the powerful stench of petroleum. Kendrick was marched directly over to a bare concrete wall studded with dozens of bullet holes. Against that part of the wall with the greatest number of pockmarks stood a plain wooden chair.