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“Ah . . . so then—”
“Prove to me you’re you. Show me that you remember what you last said to me.”
Ross’s avatar moved close to her—right up to her face. “I told you that every day my first and last thought is of you.”
In the real world, Philips felt almost overcome with emotion. He’d spoken those words to her amid the destruction of Building Twenty-Nine. She’d lain blind on a jetty as fireboats approached. No one else could have known those words. There were times, in fact, when she thought she would never hear them again.
Ross’s avatar stepped back a pace. “And how do I know you’re you?”
Philips was suddenly confounded. Of course, he was right.
“I know. Tell me what I did when I told you those words.”
She’d thought of it thousands of times since. “You brushed my cheek with your hand. And even though I couldn’t see you . . .”
She could hear the smile in his voice. “God, Natalie. I missed you so much. I’m so glad you’re safe.”
She wanted more than anything to wrap her arms around him, and was now more aware than ever that this was not reality.
“You took precautions not to be followed, I hope.”
“Jon, if they’re following me, they’re not doing it physically, and I left my cell phone at home.”
They walked their avatars along the terrace in silence for a few moments.
“How are your eyes, Nat?”
“They’re recovering. I’ll wear corrective lenses for the rest of my life, but no major damage.”
“I hope you know why I left.”
“Of course I know. They gave you no choice. And I don’t want you to tell me where you are now. I’m just glad to hear your voice. To see . . . you.” She laughed lightly. “Sort of.”
“Yeah. It’s like we’re guild members.” He flourished his arms. “Want to see a trick?”
She smirked in the real-world office. “Sure.”
He raised his hands and a bright light issued forth like a fiery missile that sailed high into the air over the city. It eventually detonated like a fireworks burst, sending a boom across the city.
“Hah! It doesn’t look very useful.”
“Well, a fireball is more useful, but not very impressive.”
“What are we going to do, Jon?”
He turned to face her again. “Join me, Natalie. Join the darknet.” She felt her heart racing again, but shook her head in real life. “Jon, you know I can’t do that. I took an oath.”
“To defend America against enemies foreign and domestic—yes. And nothing in the darknet contradicts that. Sobol’s battle is with illegitimate power. It’s not an enemy of democratic government. I’ve seen it from the inside.”
“But Jon, The Major and his people are pla
“Then let’s stop them from taking control of it.”
“And what if we do? Then we face Loki? Or a hundred Lokis?”
Ross was silent for a moment. “People are working to counteract the abuse of darknet power, too.”
“The Daemon is too much of an experiment, Jon. There are billions of lives at stake. Tinkering with the organization of human society—it never ends well.”
“Come here, I want you to see something.”
“Jon—”
“Just come here.” He brought her to what looked to be a tall statue of a muscular warrior facing a bulging stylized gate carved into the cliff face. Monstrous clawed hands and appendages were prying their way through the edges, but the lone warrior stood, sword drawn, and his other hand clutching a shield—determination on his face. The statue was probably fifty feet tall.
Then Philips recognized the face. It was Roy Merritt. “My god, what is this?”
“This villa, it’s the faction hall for the Order of Merritt. Roy is widely admired, Natalie. There are whole factions based on his ideals—ideals left by a lifetime of good deeds. Read the public charters of factions like the Meritorious Raiders or the Knights of Fire.”
“It’s great that they admire him, but I don’t see how this changes anything.”
“The majority of people are good, Natalie. That’s true right around the world. And they responded to the human decency they saw in Roy.”
She stared up at the statue.
“I’m tired of burying people I care about. I don’t want to lose you. You mean too much to me.”
She felt more than anything like holding him—if it had been real life, perhaps she would have wavered.
His avatar came closer again. “Please leave the NSA. Come with me.”
“I can’t, Jon. We need to destroy the Daemon—before it becomes a force for tyra
“But there’s tyra
“Jon, why did you lie to Roy about your father’s death?”
“Natalie. What?”
“The Communist coup wasn’t in 1991. It was in 1992. That doesn’t seem like something you’d be likely to forget. You can’t expect me to trust you if you lie. Are you even Russian?”
There was a moment of silence as his avatar just faced her. The medium of the game made it impossible for her to tell what he was thinking at this moment, and she already felt regret for having said it.
In a moment he spoke, his voice sounding sad. “The essence of my story was true, Nat. I changed some of the details to protect people I love. You must understand. I knew they would polygraph Roy. I revealed the truth about me, but not the facts.”
“You can’t tell me about yourself, but you’re asking me to betray everything I believe in. I could be put in prison for forty years just for coming here today.”
“Then why did you come?”
She stared at the screen but said nothing.
Ross’s avatar paced the terrace for a few moments. He turned back to her. “Sobol’s games always provide a turning point—a crossroad where you choose your fate. I was convinced that his Daemon would be the same—and it is. We all have a choice, Nat. We just have to make it.”
There was silence for several moments. “I’m sorry, Jon. I’ve made my choice.”
She heard him sigh. His avatar wandered over to a short marble pedestal. The top of it glowed with a blue aura, implying magical energy. Ross’s avatar held an amulet in its hand.
“If we never meet again, please remember that I loved you.”
He placed the amulet on the glowing surface of the pedestal where it disappeared in a blinding flash of light.
“Jon—”
At that moment she was suddenly ejected from the game and found herself staring at the icons of a computer desktop.
In the real world of the office, Philips heard a machine come to life in a back room, humming and whirring.
She turned to look around the monitor and saw a cable extending from the back of the computer. Philips stood up and followed the cable as it ran along the floor into what appeared to be a server room. Instead of servers though, she saw a machine about the size of a refrigerator. She leaned down and could see through a tinted window as a movable laser head blazed. It was laying down some sort of metallic material with each pass, the head moving rapidly. As she watched, it became apparent that the machine was creating the small amulet that Ross’s avatar held in its hand.
Within moments, the machine stopped, and the printing head withdrew. The front door whirred open, and the part was there in front of her.