Preserving Will Page 11

  One of the people in the crowd recognized one of the men lying on the sidewalk. A murmur spread through the crowd. People whispered the man’s name, offered their non-professional and untrained opinions as to his physical state, and mused as to the impact on the country of the young entrepreneur’s assassination.

  Someone pointed at Maynard and shouted a question. “Will Stark… is he… will he survive?”

  Maynard glanced once more at the man’s steady breathing, marveled at his continued existence, and nodded.

  People in the crowd breathed deep sighs of relief. “I wonder if we’ll ever know what happened,” someone said.

  Maynard shook his head. “I doubt it,” he muttered. Nobody could hear him.

  Nobody could see the transformation that occurred inside him, either, one triggered by the realization that the role of mercenary was one destined to end in his own eventual demise. And for the first time, he felt guilt over an effort to take a life. He felt guilty about the men dead at his feet. And most of all, he felt ashamed… ashamed that he’d been willing to orchestrate it all for money. He couldn’t explain it, but somehow, the fact that Will had escaped with not just his life, but only minor injuries, told him this man was destined for greatness beyond even what he’d already achieved. That great man trusted Maynard with his life.

  From this day forward, Maynard vowed, it would be a trust he would deserve.

  ●●●

  Both Michael and Hope were breathing deeply, emotionally drained by the sudden explosion of violence directed at young Will Stark over the course of a minute. They’d reacted on instinct, as prepared as they could possibly be from the memories Will had shared a quarter century earlier. Watching a recorded memory wasn’t the same thing as living through it, though. Watching a memory had no impact on whether Will survived the attack; their actions today, though, had helped save Will’s life.

  Or had they?

  “Did you… save him?” Michael asked. His face, still occupying a corner of Hope’s viewscreen, remained flushed, but his breathing had started to stabilize.

  Hope shook her head. “Did you?”

  Michael shook his head as well, and they both realized the implications.

  Someone else had helped them that day.

  “Perhaps Will had some latent telekinetic ability that redirected the bullet?” Michael offered. His tone suggested he knew the idea was illogical.

  Hope considered that. “I suppose anything’s possible. Whatever it was, though, or whoever it was… we have to accept the fact that what was done saved Will’s life. I don’t know that I got my Energy positioned in time to block that bullet… or if there was enough there to bock it.”

  She was overcome with the emotion of the statement, the realization that she’d reacted too slowly. Had her efforts been in time? She’d never know. She could go back and watch the recording of Will’s memory again, determine if she’d been the one to deflect the bullet from the gun aimed directly at Will’s face, yet she didn’t want to watch a memory knowing it might show that she’d failed in doing her job.

  Michael waved a hand in the screen. “Shadow, you must focus. Do you sense we have anything further to fear from the fifth gunman?”

  Michael had been trailing Will that day, the day when Lance Maynard had slipped away and met the shadowy figure who’d offered millions to orchestrate the murder of Will Stark. But Will had never learned of the attempted betrayal; his memories showed Lance Maynard to be loyal and devoted. That inconsistency between observed fact and recorded memory made Maynard, the “fifth gunman,” a wildcard on this day. Had history changed?

  Or had Maynard, watching his target survive a perfectly executed hit, made a split-second decision to change sides and not fight whatever force had saved Will? It was a practical decision, but it still left open the possibility that Maynard might one day betray his employer again if the opportunity arose.

  Hope considered this, and shook her head. “I sense he’s no further threat; that experience changed him. We need to do a deeper scan to know for certain.” Her eyes hardened. “The experience with Clint means we can never be too careful.”

  Michael shivered. “You don’t think the Aliomenti had anything to do with this, do you? That would be a troubling development.”

  “I don’t know,” Hope admitted. “The thoughts I picked up from the security chief suggest his attack was motivated solely by money, not a desire to serve the Aliomenti’s long-term plans. And in reality, if the Aliomenti realize who Young Will actually is, and recognize that he’s no threat to them, they aren’t going to concern themselves with subtlety. They’d have the Hunters flash in, grab him, and teleport him to a transport craft before Will would know what happened. No, I think this man’s motivation was an excessive amount of money and fear for his own safety. It’s the potential retaliation by those who hired Maynard that concerns me. If he believes those who set him to this assassination attempt will come after him, he may even now look for an opportunity to kill Will to protect himself.”

  On the screen, Michael nodded slowly. “I’ll stick close to Will, then, at least until you’re able to handle that full time. It won’t be long now, will it?”

  Hope smiled. “Not long at all. Just keep him alive until then, okay? I don’t want to lose him. Again.”

  Michael nodded. “You have my word, Shadow.”

  VIII

  Employment

  2018 A.D.

  Cain Freeman walked into the nondescript building carrying nothing more than a printed report. He had an interview today with Ashley Farmer, the founder of a company called Nanoscience, Inc. Ashley had learned of Cain through her business network and had asked him to come in and talk about a potential full-time role with the new company.

  There was no reception desk. He found a few basic plastic chairs in what he believed to be the lobby and, with no way to announce his presence, sat down to wait. He glanced around. His research into both company and founder revealed a belief that capital was best spent on people and the tools needed to help them succeed, rather than posh office space and ostentatious furnishings. The office for the research and development company looked like it was housed inside an old factory… and, in fact, it was.

  At precisely ten o’clock, a door opened and a mature woman with slightly graying brown hair emerged. Everything, from the hair on her head to the trim business suit she wore, was impeccably clean and in order. He noted her quick appraisal of his appearance and grooming, and detected the faint smile of approval at the recent trim of his hair, his cleanly shaved face, and his freshly laundered shirt and suit. Her eyes flicked to the report in his hand, which was the idea.

  “Mr. Freeman?”

  He rose from his chair and walked to her, his hand extended. “That’s me. I’m Cain Freeman.”

  She accepted the handshake with a firm grip. “I’m Ashley Farmer, Mr. Freeman. Please, come in.” She motioned him into her office and shut the door behind them. He remained standing until she motioned him into one of the cloth-covered chairs near her desk.

  Ashley Farmer wasted no time with preliminary conversation. “Mr. Freeman, I’ve invited you in today because our company is working on a new and highly proprietary technology, and I need to ensure that what we discover and develop here stays here until such time as I choose to release information, prototypes, or final products to the general public. In other words, I need my data and information secured tighter than a high security prison. My personal network of business contacts tells me you’re something of a phenomenon, and that you’re the best in the world at doing exactly what it is I want to do. Your recent move from a contracting role for multiple companies, to an expression of interest in securing a full time role with one company, coincides perfectly with my interest in hiring someone with your skillset.”

  He nodded. “The timing is indeed fortuitous, Ms. Farmer. After years of doing contract work, I’ve come to believe I can be most productive if I’m able to focus my attention on a
single organization at a time. Once I made that decision, I refused new contract work opportunities and allowed existing contracts to expire. That has enabled me to look for something full time.” He smiled, an expression of complete confidence. “I’m hoping that this is that something.”

  Ashley ignored the leading comment. She gestured at the document Cain held in his hands. “I noticed the report you’ve brought has this company’s name on the cover. Is that something you wished to show me?”

  He nodded. “This is something I do for all potential clients. The most dramatic way to show the need to implement security—whether through me or others—is to see concrete evidence that current security is insufficient.”

  “We take security here quite seriously, Mr. Freeman,” Ashley said, a tone of warning in her voice. She frowned and crossed her arms.

  “It’s not sufficient to take it seriously,” he replied. “Those seeking to defeat your security to access your proprietary and sensitive information are only interested in what loopholes you’ve left for them to exploit. Good intentions do not provide protection from malicious intent and adequate skill.”

  Ashley sighed. “That’s understood. We’ve established firewalls to protect our internal networks and physical security to prevent unauthorized entry. No one will crack our security.”

  “You don’t actually believe that, though,” he replied, and his voice was quiet. “If you did, you wouldn’t have called me.” He placed the folder on her desk and pushed it to her, the paper scraping against the wooden surface in a manner that clearly jolted her. The office suddenly seemed extremely quiet.

  Ashley Farmer reached out slowly and opened the report to the first page—and gasped.

  Cain Freeman kept his expression neutral. The page showed the latest schematic for producing the company’s most prized piece of new technology, a miniaturized sensor capable of detecting and orienting on masses of cells with a specific protein pattern. The company’s most popular product—a miniaturized robot able to move along a preprogrammed path using claw-like feet—would one day be combined with this new technology, with the startling potential to allow nanobots injected into the bloodstream to seek out and travel to cells with specific disease patterns. If they succeeded at that merger of technologies and products, they’d work on additional “modules” to allow the “nanobots” to perform specific tasks upon reaching diseased cells—including injecting medications directly into unhealthy cells to promote healing.

  That was the future.

  At this moment, Cain knew, Ashley wasn’t worried about the future combination of products, because the man seated across the desk from her had defeated her security systems and stolen her company’s most ambitious research efforts.

  She worked to regain control of the interview. “I should have you arrested for theft,” she snapped.

  “But you won’t,” Freeman replied. “You won’t, because you need to understand how I got that diagram… and more importantly, what you could have done, and could do in the future, to prevent others like me from doing the same.”

  Ashley stared at the diagram, not trusting herself to refute his charge.

  “The loophole I exploited is described on the remaining pages of the document,” Freeman said. “And there are other loopholes I could still use to extract the same information without your permission or knowledge. If we choose not to work together, you have in your hands the blueprint to fix the most glaring security hole; you’ll stop ninety percent of information thieves with those recommendations. And working through that process may help you identify other gaps as well. In what I intend as a good faith gesture, I have, on the final page, included a signed, notarized, personal pledge to be cease any further intrusion efforts should we choose not to work together.”

  Ashley snapped her focus back to him. “There’s no need to engage in further efforts if—”

  “I have no further copies of the diagram. That’s also part of the signed pledge. No one else has or will discover that diagram through any of the efforts used to produce this report.”

  Ashley took a deep breath. Cain thought it was clear she was debating whether to trust the pledge of a man who had committed the information equivalent of breaking and entering, but at the same time he’d provided instructions on how to fix the gap. She didn’t suspect she had much choice but to believe him.

  She finally spoke again. “That’s a very impressive demonstration of your skill, Mr. Freeman. And given that demonstration, I don’t have much choice but to trust your word as stated in the signed pledge.” She paused. “I admit I’m intrigued, though. We’ve had several private assessments of our security, all of which proclaimed our systems impenetrable. Your demonstration shows me that there’s more we need to do, far more, and I can think of no one better to lead those efforts than the man who cracked the supposedly impenetrable network.” Ashley Farmer offered him a wan smile. “When can you start?”

  “No bartering over compensation packages or other terms of employment?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

  “I suspect you’ll demand a king’s ransom,” Ashley replied. “But you’ve shown me today that my company’s intellectual property is at risk, and if I can’t protect that intellectual property, this company will not survive. Given that, I will agree to demands commensurate with a modestly wealthy monarch.”

  He laughed, reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out a single sheet of paper. “These are my terms.” He set the folded sheet of paper on her desk and slid it halfway across.

  Ashley eyed him with great curiosity. Her hand moved atop the paper, and she slid the form to the edge of her desk, her wedding ring scraping the wooden surface as she did so. She didn’t remove her eyes from Freeman until after she’d picked up the paper and unfolded the document. She scanned the terms, and then looked at Freeman once more. “I’m… surprised, Mr. Freeman.”

  He shrugged. “I think long-term, Ms. Farmer. My contract work allowed me to save enough money to live off of for several years, so I do not need a large salary. This company is relatively new, and I suspect its most prosperous times are yet to come… but only if it survives long enough to reach its potential. Public records indicate that all employees—including you, Ms. Farmer—receive only modest salaries. I’ve no desire to work for a company in which my gargantuan salary leads to an exhaustion of funds before the company reaches its peak. No, it’s better for everyone that you pay me a modest stipend today and shares of future profits.” He drummed his fingers on her desk. “This company has the opportunity to be the next great success story, Ms. Farmer, much like what Will Stark has done. I want to be part of making that a reality, rather than the one who caused it to crumble into oblivion.”

  Ashley set the paper down on the desk and stood, a movement Freeman matched, and she held out her hand. “I like the way you think, Mr. Freeman. Welcome aboard.”

  Freeman shook her hand. “Thank you, Ms. Farmer. I look forward to a productive working relationship. Should I report for duty on Monday?”

  Ashley nodded. “That would be perfect. I’ll alert our human resources department that you’ll be starting. You’ll need to spend time completing paperwork, set up your working space, get access to our network…” She chuckled. “Well, you can probably handle that last bit without any help.” Cain Freeman smiled.

  Ashley motioned him to the door and walked him out to the lobby, where a gangly young man with red hair and freckles sat waiting. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Freeman. Mr. Richardson?” The red-haired man glanced up and nodded. “I’ll be with you in just a few minutes.”

  She turned on her heel and went back into her office, shutting the door behind her.

  Cain glanced at the red-haired man sitting in the chair. “David? Is that you?”

  The man looked up, and his face lit with recognition. “Cain! It’s been a while since we traded notes about inept professors.” His eyes flicked toward Ashley Farmer’s office. “How’d it go?”

  “We talk
ed. It was a productive conversation.”

  “She recognized your genius and hired you on the spot, then?” Richardson asked, grinning.

  Cain couldn’t help but smile. “Something like that.” He nodded at his former college classmate. “I take it you’re for an interview as well.”

  David nodded. “They’re looking to do here what I’ve wanted to do for years, what I told you about since that first day in school… or, at least, they’re the company best positioned to do so.” His hand gripped a small vial with a stopper. “I think I’ve reached the limit of what I can do on my own. With the resources, here, though? The sky’s the limit.” He smiled an impish grin. “And I think Ms. Farmer will be interested in something I’ve been working on.”

  Cain chuckled. “Knowing you, it’s a cure for cancer, but it only has a ninety-eight percent cure rate.”

  David’s smile matched the one Cain showed earlier. “Something… not quite like that. But still interesting.”

  Cain looked thoughtful for a moment, as he’d been hit with a wave of telepathic and emotive messages from Ashley Farmer. Both Cain—Adam’s present Outside persona—and Ashley had known this day would come, and both had done their best to keep the interview natural. Ashley hadn’t told Adam anything about the office, nor had she mentioned anything in status reports about what they’d worked on. Adam, for his part, didn’t mention that he’d hacked into the corporate network after about thirty minutes of focused effort. It was fair to say Ashley had been far more surprised at the events that had just transpired.

  The idea she’d proposed in that thought wave—outside the sheer shock at the skill he’d displayed—was one that gave him pause. Their credo—to be the change you wanted in the world—had long been seen as one to be carried out using Energy skills. Nudge a person toward a specific idea, help someone recover from illness or injury, move money into ventures promising to advance the human condition in some manner.