Black Sun Rising

Chapter Twenty-Seven

When I-15 met I-40, Purdue finally agreed that they could stop for a break. He had been driving like a maniac ever since they hit paved roads again, his eyes fixed on the blacktop with a steady gaze, but at last he succumbed to Sam and Nina's persuasion that they would be too conspicuous if they remained in the Zibar MK2—particularly because it had a bullet hole in the rear panel.

They pulled off the Interstate in search of a replacement car and food. Of course, none of them had any cash, thanks to their belongings having been left behind at Parashant. This made Purdue crack his first smile in a long time. "I'm one of the richest men in the world," he chuckled, "yet I don't have twenty dollars for a few bottles of water and some sandwiches. What a sorry lookout this is."

Fortunately, though Sam had not used his petty pilfering skills since he was at university supplying his cupboard from the local pub, they remained serviceable. While Purdue went in search of a suitable new car at the far end of the car park, beyond the reach of the cameras, Sam and Nina browsed the convenience store. A cooler filled with shimmering bottles of pure, cold water stood tantalizingly before them, but their access was blocked by a bored-looking young man whose T-shirt, peaked cap, and lethargic shelf-stacking marked him as a member of staff. For all his apparent disinterest in the job, it was clear that stealing in front of him would not be wise.

Nina ran her fingers through her hair, smoothed down her stained T-shirt and smiled as she stepped toward him. "Excuse me," she improvised, drawing the young man's gaze away from Sam. "I'm sorry to bother you. I was just wondering if you knew where I could find a box of sticking plasters."

The youth eyed her suspiciously, as if wondering whether this was a practical joke.

"Isn't that what you call them here?" Nina rambled on, while Sam sidled closer to the shelves. "Elastoplast, maybe? You know, the pink stretchy things you put over cuts and grazes while they heal."

There was almost a flicker of life in the young man's eyes as realization dawned. "Oh, you mean Band-Aids? Yeah, we got some, right over here. Say, are you Irish? That's a neat accent."

As the young man led Nina away, his interest apparently piqued by her speech, Sam seized the opportunity and grabbed a few bottles. He snatched up prepacked sandwiches at random, not even bothering to check their fillings, then searched the floor for a dropped receipt that would allow him to walk out, goods in hand, unchallenged.

He had almost made it to the exit when he saw something that made him spin around and rush to find Nina.

It was Cody.

"You're sure?" Nina demanded, hastening her limping steps to match Sam's.

"Certain," Sam replied. "And he looked like he was searching for us."

"Well, I can't imagine what else he'd be doing here. Let's hope Purdue's found us a car."

Not only had Purdue found them a car, he had managed to find a spacious minivan whose owner had left a few belongings in the glove compartment. Among these was her wallet, which Purdue had taken and helped himself to the money in order to fill the fuel tank. There was also, much to Sam and Nina's delight, an almost full packet of cigarettes. They were light cigarettes, but cigarettes, nonetheless.

"Looks like we're ruining someone's family holiday," Sam observed, climbing into the back and noticing the array of suitcases. He found and opened a capacious cooler. It contained enough cartons of juice, packets of dried fruit, and crackers to feed an army.

"I have their bank details," said Purdue, easing them out onto the Interstate. "I will ensure that they are suitably recompensed for the inconvenience as soon as we get home. Will that do? Now get some sleep, Sam. I will need you to take over driving in a few hours."

Sam finished his sandwich and stretched out on the back seat. His system was still flooded with adrenaline from sighting Cody, but he knew that their best chance of escape was to keep moving, and that would depend on one of them being awake and capable of driving at all times. Gradually, he felt his body growing heavy as he willed himself to sleep.

Nearly ten hours later, not long after sunset, Purdue declared that they were almost at their destination.

"Are you sure?" Sam looked around dubiously. They were in Silicon Valley, he knew. He had seen enough signs to make him sure of that. However, the area they were currently driving through seemed desolate and abandoned. Street after street, he saw small McMansions that looked as though they had never been lived in. There were no cars in the driveways, no basketball hoops, no pools, and no trash cans out for collection. All the lawns were a little overgrown and the flowerbeds untended. As darkness fell, not a single window was lit.

"Yes, this is definitely the right place," said Purdue. "I remember visiting when these houses were being built, shortly before the crash."

"Let me guess," said Nina, watching a stray dog dashing through the empty yards. "The global economic crisis happened, then no one could afford these places anymore, and they've all sat empty?"

"It is true that they have always been empty, but not that no one could afford them. FireStorm was already considering establishing a base of operations in the San Jose area. It would be a technological base, rather than a place where they could recruit via their Vision Quests. When the world's economy collapsed, they simply bought up the lot."

"But I don't see a base," Nina was puzzled. "Is it underground?"

"In a sense." Purdue tapped Sam on the shoulder and pointed to a sign up ahead that read Pinewood Mall. "We need to follow that sign." He returned to his conversation with Nina. "What you see here is a sort of defensive border, Nina. The technology being developed by FireStorm is extremely sensitive — both in the sense of having to be protected in case it is tampered with, and in the sense of needing to be kept secret to avoid spreading alarm. As long as that base was operational, these seemingly innocuous streets acted as a corridor between it and the outside world. The approach of an unknown vehicle would trigger a massive security shutdown. Anyone who took a wrong turn onto these streets would find they had a chance meeting with a police car, and the police would politely check the driver's destination and set them on their way with a warning that it is not safe to drive around abandoned areas, even in predominantly middle-class Silicon Valley."

Sam gave a long, low whistle. "They've got the police under their thumb?"

"Sam, they have everyone under their thumb." Purdue's voice took on a tone Sam could not remember hearing before. He actually sounded somewhat defeated. Still, it was only there for a moment before he continued in his usual more upbeat way. "Fortunately, now that this base has been replaced by a more remote — and frankly infinitely more suitable — option in Canada, only minimal security remains. Of course, FireStorm's idea of minimal security is still considerable compared to most places, but I am glad that we are not trying to infiltrate an operational base!"

"Wait," said Nina, "Why exactly are we trying to infiltrate anything? We've taken it on trust that we needed to come this far with you, Dave, but you really need to tell us what you're getting us into this time."

While listening to Purdue and Nina, in the shadow of his own thoughts, Sam observed something which tickled his cynicism about their relationship. He did not wish to entertain such notions, but the selfish part of him condoned it entirely. For two lovers, their interaction and discussion was significantly cool and impersonal. Even if it was just sex, there was no sign of any intimacy between them, not in speech or in body language. Nina's words, "that we needed to come this far with you, Dave," distinctly inferred that they were somewhat detached. Would she not come this far with him at all costs if they were a couple? Perhaps, Sam thought, he was just more romantic than he had thought he was to doubt their closeness.

"And I will," he said. "I was simply waiting for the apposite moment — early enough to give you all the necessary details, yet late enough that you will not have time to overthink things and become unduly nervous. Despite the fact that this base is abandoned, it is still used to store some of the servers that FireStorm will require in order to bring the full version of its network online. We must destroy those servers, otherwise the network will be launched at the end of the Mind Meld with the backing of all the powerful people they have recruited, and it will catch on swiftly.

"Within days, millions will have signed up. Within weeks those millions will find it indispensable. Within months, billions will be using it — almost the entire developed world, and it will have begun its spread into developing countries. Within a year, we will scarcely be able to remember our lives before we all used FireStorm, and within two years the death of privacy will have been achieved. By the time anyone begins to realize how foolish they were to hand over so much valuable information freely, it will be much, much too late."

The long line of identical houses ended at a T junction, beyond which lay an expansive strip mall. If I didn't already believe Purdue's story about this place having special protection, Sam thought, that signage would convince me. It still reads Pinewood Mall! Surely it ought to be missing at least half its letters by now.

"Turn left here," Purdue instructed him. "We need to go to section D."

Section D of the vast parking lot, it turned out, looked remarkably similar to sections A, B, and C. The white lines had begun to wear away through time and lack of maintenance, and the whole place was completely empty apart from the minivan. Sam turned the vehicle around so that it was parked across four spaces. Despite the expanse of other spaces and the fact that the mall would never have any actual customers clamoring to park there, he still felt the faint thrill of wrongdoing.

"Really, Dave?" Nina groaned, raising an amused eyebrow at Purdue's chosen point of access. "This is where you stored the servers? If this is your idea of camouflage… well, you have an overdeveloped sense of irony."

Sam followed her gaze to the sign on the monolithic shop front ahead of them. Target. He laughed.

When they arrived at the double doors, Sam waited for Purdue to bring out his tablet and start cracking the access code, but he did not. Instead he simply marched straight up to the door, waited for it to open and walked through.

"What happened there?" Sam asked. "Shouldn't that have been a bit more of a challenge?"

Purdue shrugged. "No one else was ever going to get close to this place, and even if they did they would have to know exactly what they were looking for. Not everything has to be complicated, Sam."

He led the way into the shop. Their footsteps echoed through its cavernous interior. Despite the standard cheerful signs welcoming no-existent customers to retail heaven, the atmosphere was unsettling. Half-emptied boxes littered the aisles between the half-stacked shelves, as if at some point during the initial setup, the store had been evacuated and nobody had ever returned. That's probably not a million miles from the truth, Sam thought. I wouldn't be surprised if FireStorm had the resources to buy this place lock, stock, and barrel.

"We should take some of these," Purdue suggested, reaching into an open box and pulling out a baseball bat. He handed one to Sam and one to Nina, then took one for himself and gave it an exploratory swing. "They might come in handy when the time comes to destroy the servers," he explained.

They crossed the store and made their way into the main walkway of the mall. The strange atmosphere was even more pronounced among the empty corridors. A food court occupied a suspended space above the atrium, its colored fast food outlets shuttered and unstaffed.

One of the escalators leading up to it had collapsed, presumably due to lack of maintenance, and had crashed down onto the children's rides below. A grinning sun hung lopsided, dangling from a single wire, the other snapped and hanging aimlessly from the Plexiglas ceiling. The remains of a giant pink plastic teddy bear lay crushed under the fallen concrete, its glassy, heart-shaped eyes fixed eternally on the distant JC Penney sign at the far end of the strip.

"Get down!" Sam cried, grabbing Purdue and Nina and pulling them to the floor behind a bench.

"What?" Nina whispered. "What is it?"

"I saw someone," he said quietly, "over that way."

"What did you see?" Purdue asked urgently, gripping his bat tightly.

"I didn't have time to make it out," Sam replied. "It was just a flicker of movement. But I think there's more than one."

"Ah." Purdue got up, shaking off Nina's whispered protestations.

They waited. Sam could hardly draw breath. Purdue stepped out from behind the bench.

"I see you!" he called, his voice growing a little fainter as he walked away. "You needn't think you can hide from us! Sam! Come here! I think you might be interested to see this!"

Reluctant and confused, Sam stood up. He could see Purdue standing in the open doorway of a branch of Urban Outfitters, gently slapping his bat against his palm. Expecting to see the acolytes at least, or perhaps a company of soldiers like the ones they had encountered on their first collaboration at the ice station, Sam sidled over to join Purdue.

Two men stood facing them, one tall and skinny with round glasses, the other a little shorter, with a more wiry build and sandy hair in need of a trim. Another figure stepped into view in front of them, this one small, female and limping.

"Us?" Sam said. "It was a mirror?"

"Correct," laughed Purdue, waving a hand at the wall of mirrors that lined the back of the unstocked shop. "Still, no matter — at least we know that you're vigilant. Come this way."

They continued through the mall until they came to an alcove containing a couple of photo booths. Purdue pulled aside the curtain of the first booth and laid his palm against the view screen. He bent his head and looked straight into it, then leaped back as the booth began to move, sliding aside to reveal a white door with a number panel. Purdue tapped in a code and that door swung open too. "That is why the entrance to the mall itself did not require greater security," he threw over his shoulder as he led the others through. "Even if someone was able to get here without being intercepted and find the correct booth, there is no way into the facility itself unless your handprint and iris scan are in the system."

What lay beyond the door was a long row of stacked servers in metal cases, towering over Purdue. The row extended into darkness, further than they could see.

"Is there a light switch somewhere?" Nina asked.

Purdue shook his head. "They come on automatically. We will simply have to work our way along."

"Right then." Nina hoisted her bat. "Let's get smashing."

Sam gasped for breath. He heaved the bat up and took one last swing, sending a glittering cascade of shattered glass and plastic cascading to the floor.

"That should suffice," Purdue panted, lowering his own bat. "The data we have destroyed by annihilating these servers is crucial to the operation of the whole system."

"Won't they just rebuild?" Sam asked. "I mean, even if the servers are split up across different locations, surely they have a contingency plan for what to do if anything… well, if someone strolls in and smashes the place up, say?"

Purdue opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak a light flashed on behind Sam and another voice rang out — a twangy, nasal voice that set Sam's teeth on edge.

"Sure, we have a contingency plan, Sam," Cody said, training his gun on Purdue. "Did Dave not tell you about this part? Honestly, I don't know what kind of game this guy's playing, but there is so much he hasn't told you. You can't take down the FireStorm network just by destroying some servers! We've got backups. Of course, we have backups! And as long as we've got the activation keys, bringing everything online as planned won't be a problem." He took a few steps toward Purdue, holding out his hand. "Speaking of which — I'm sorry, Dave, but I'm going to have to ask for your key. I don't think you can be trusted with it anymore. Now, are you going to hand it over? Or do I have to take it from you?"