The Unmaking Engine by Ian W. Sainsbury

Author:Ian W. Sainsbury [Sainsbury, Ian W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-09-29T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

London

Walt stared at Seb. There was no doubt. The man he had seen killed was now sitting in his London hotel room, smiling at him, looking for all the world as if he’d just dropped in for a friendly chat.

Walt fell into the other chair, opened the minibar and took out two miniature bottles of whisky, filling a glass and draining it in under five seconds.

“Sorry about burning your body,” he said. “You’d just had your head cut off, so you wouldn’t have felt it. And it meant Meera went free. But, for what it’s worth, I am sorry. And I’m sorry about Bob. I didn’t know Westlake was going to murder your friend, I didn’t realize he was going to slaughter the Order back there in Vegas, I just—,”

Seb held up a hand and Walt fell silent.

“No need to explain anything,” said Seb. “And no need to apologize. It might make you feel a bit better, but it’s not going to bring anyone back. Besides, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t know you’d changed. I know you’ve run. I know you’re trying to make amends. I know you want to warn Meera.”

Walt reached back into the minibar. There was no more whisky. He tried mixing gin and vodka. The resulting cocktail wouldn’t win any prizes, but it burned his throat and made his eyes sting, so he was satisfied.

“It was a homunculus?” he said. “That’s what Westlake killed?”

“Yes,” said Seb.

Walt thought back to that morning. Remembered the way the man they had thought was Seb Varden moved, spoke and reacted like a human being. The difference between his power and Seb’s was like comparing a Buster Keaton movie to the latest sci-fi epic.

“Ok,” he said, “ok.” He had half-guessed Seb was alive, so it could only have been a homunculus he’d seen die that day, but knowing that fact didn’t stop his mind from reeling at the ability Seb had displayed.

“How did you find me?” he said.

“I’ve been with you since we last met in Las Vegas,” said Seb. “I didn’t go anywhere. And, for the sake of accuracy, you should stop calling me Seb.”

“What?” said Walt. “Why?”

“I’m just a program,” said Seb. “An app. A sub-routine. A virus—that might be the closest analogy. Seb2 transferred me to you back in Vegas. I’ve been dormant ever since, a tiny coil of genetic material at the top of your spine.”

Walt shivered. “Seb2?” he said.

“Too long a story.”

“I’ve been carrying you around?” said Walt. “You’ve seen everything I’ve seen, heard my thoughts? All my thoughts?”

“Relax,” said Seb, “I haven’t been spying on you. Like I said, I was dormant. It took a combination of triggers to activate me. And here I am.”

“Triggers?” said Walt.

“Yeah. First trigger, you had to leave Mason, go on the lam. You’ve always chosen the easy way, the path of least resistance. But Seb thought you could change. Some might call it naivety, but since you’ve proved his hunch right, maybe not.”

“You said there was more than one trigger,” said Walt.

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