The Immortality Game

«The Web is my playground. I have access to more money than I can ever dream of spending…‌and believe me, I can dream big. If you’d like to relocate out of Russia, we can do that.»

«This is fascinating, to say the least,» Tyoma said, «but I’d prefer to discuss this after you extract me from my current situation. Hold on again…»

Oskar entered holding a large plastic bottle and a plate with a neatly sliced sandwich on it. He held them out to Tyoma.

“Water, like you asked. I hope chicken is okay?”

“I was hoping for tuna, but thank you.”

Both of them chuckled at the joke, tuna having been practically extinct since before the Dark Times. Oskar ducked out the door and it slid shut.

«Okay, I’m back.» Tyoma took a sip of water and eyed the sandwich suspiciously. The lettuce looked good, but the tomato was too green.

«I can help you, Doctor,» Javier said. «I won’t do it out of the kindness of my proverbial heart, though. I want in. There is nothing I want more. Give me assurances, and I’ll help you.»

«How can you help me?»

«I can handle anything the Web touches. You kept your work secret by keeping your network strictly private. Few manage to keep the Web from interfacing in some manner with their networks. My guess is, wherever you are, I can help you.»

Tyoma considered how easily Javier had breached his security at the compound and believed he could probably do as he claimed. «I already said, I’m in The Pyramid. Look, I can’t speak for the others, but as far as I’m concerned, if you can really provide the funding, I’m happy to include you.»

Volodya snorted. «There is much to discuss before—»

«Of course there is,» Kostya said, «but I think it’s safe to assume we lean toward working with Dr. Saenz. If he’s legit, I for one would love to have his help. The most important thing for now is to rescue Tyoma.»

«I agree,» Dima said. «Get Tyoma out and we can all meet later to work this out.»

Volodya scowled. «Fine, help him get out safely and we’ll talk.»

Tyoma could almost hear a smile in Javier’s voice. «We’re going to do great things together.»

Moscow

Sunday, June 8, 2138

7:35 p.m. MSK

Despite the sharp stitch in his side and the ragged panting of his breath, Marcus pushed himself to jog faster. Even the larger of the two mobsters was nearly out of sight now in the crowd ahead. The crowd! He couldn’t get over how many people there were in this strange city. He’d lived for so long with the dwindling population of Phoenix—and in the confines of his apartment—that to be surrounded by so many living people would have been distressing under even normal circumstances. However, these people were nothing like any he had seen before. They were as ragged and colorful as the upper levels of the tower had been orderly and antiseptic.

Every couple of blocks another of the needle-like towers soared so high into the sky that it made Marcus dizzy to attempt to see the top. The towers of central Moscow rose like silvery blooms from a trash heap, their lower floors already dingy and decaying to match the look of the neighborhood. Across the road to the right, the ancient buildings had collapsed and the local denizens had taken to dumping their trash there, until the small block was little more than a series of waste mounds, whose stench permeated the air worse than anything he’d ever smelled.

On the blocks between the towers, smaller buildings contained a mix of small shops and deserted, crumbling shells, while the road was lined with kiosks cobbled together with whatever materials the owner had managed to scrounge. There was a deserted church, the gold paint of its onion domes flaking badly. Few vehicles moved on these streets, while the sky hummed with the activity of countless lanes and levels of air traffic.

Marcus wondered why Meshing had turned Phoenix into a virtual ghost town while here it appeared to have had little effect. He dodged around a small crowd of people eating skewers of meat at a kiosk made from old rubber tires and wooden crates. Poplar fluff whirled about his legs as he stepped off a curb into the street. The big mobster was nowhere in sight. Marcus paused to catch his breath and consider what to do next. He couldn’t keep up the chase and he could easily get lost in this alien landscape.

«Papa, I know you’re upset, but could you get me an air car so I can help Zoya?»

«Certainly. Give me a minute to contact a taxi service.»

Still staring in the direction he had last seen his quarry, Marcus narrowed his eyes. He gave in too easily. Drawing in a long, shuddering breath, he took off running again.

«Stop running, Marcus. It will be easier for the taxi to pick you up.»

«I know you. You’ll have him take me to the apartment.»

For a few moments there were only the sounds of the street and his own labored breathing.