CHAPTER 14

Spider curled in the armchair of his study, watching Sarah. The noise of the Catholic sector seeped through the security windows. "Have you told Rakkim what your zombie found in D.C.?"

"Her zombie?" Rakkim pulled the blanket up around Spider where it had slipped off. "Yeah, she showed me."

"Rakkim is…skeptical." Sarah looked at Leo. "Did you find where the safe room is?"

"Not exactly." Leo loudly blew his nose. His allergies had kicked in. Probably a dust storm in Tibet or somebody on Mars had a new kitten. "Not yet."

Spider dimmed the lights, the wallscreen flickering. "We cleaned up the original, increased the resolution."

The D.C. rubble bobbed onscreen, bones littering the sidewalk, the American flag in the gutter. A quick pan of the collapsed Capitol dome as the zombie gave his voice-over sales pitch, his breathing moist and heavy through the decon suit, boots kicking up cinders and dead newspapers. The cameraman's emaciated face was reflected for a moment in a sheet of glass, his sunken cheeks behind the plexi-hood, damp hair plastered across his scalp.

Static onscreen, then a dimly lit tunnel, the ceiling half collapsed, the zombie cursing as he squeezed his way through. His decon suit scraped against the sides as he scooted forward on his belly. This…this here's something special. The laser torch popped on and he started cutting away at the hatch to the access tunnel. Moments later a clang as the access hatch fell into darkness. Dust shimmered as the light from the camera poked through the opening.

The zombie grunted, tried to work his way through the narrow opening. He stopped, panting. Tried again. Still too tight. Gonna have to come back with a hand jack. He swept the room: the wooden globe with the continents oddly shaped…a red rose in its vase…a couple of flintlock pistols…a yellowed document under armored glass. A man lay behind the desk, only his skeletal hand visible, sticking out of the sleeve of his blue suit.

The image wobbled as the zombie tried to squeeze into the room. A curse hissed into the darkness. The zombie turned the camera light on his arm, saw a tear in the shoulder of the decon suit. He slapped on a quick-patch, but the tear spread, the material weakened from years of toxic exposure. He looked into the camera, blinking, and even across time and space you could tell that he knew. Sorry…I'm sorry. His hand bumped the edge of the opening and he dropped the camera. The image bounced, stabilized for an instant, long enough to see the red rose on the desk collapse, petals shattering to dust… The screen went black. Faint sound of thezombie sobbing before Spider stopped the recording.

"Why does he say he's sorry?" said Rakkim.

"It's a much clearer recording," said Sarah, "I just wish you could have located where-"

"Nobody can track a signal out of D.C.," said Rakkim. "The soup's too thick."

The wallscreen flared and the safe room was in sharp focus, the angle tilted.

"What…?" said Sarah.

"Leo couldn't pinpoint the safe room," said Spider, "but Leo did succeed in walking back the signal sent to the zombie's Web site. We thought the camera had gone dead, but it's still operating. You missed it, Sarah, and so did we at first. It only broadcasts a five-second burst every twenty-four hours. Leo's managed to retrieve three of the bursts, spanning the last week. We've attached them on the main recording."

"Showtime," said Leo.

A flash of light illuminated the safe room. Low angle. More of the dead man visible now, his suit in rags, one shoe off…metacarpals gleaming through his tattered sock.

"There's no way you can triangulate the room's position from the signal?" said Sarah.

"Do you even know what that means?" said Leo.

"It wasn't possible, Sarah," soothed Spider. "We've been trying. The only way Leo was able to snatch the five-second bursts was because they had the same digital signature as the original data packet. What Leo did…it's really quite remarkable."

"Yeah, a little appreciation might be nice," said Leo.

"Something…something was different between the original recording and the five-second bursts," said Rakkim.

Spider froze the image. Turned to Leo. "I told you he would notice."

Leo rolled his eyes.

"What's different?" said Sarah.

The wallscreen jumped, the angle canted so that the desk looked as if it were about to fall over. "One of the things we were able to do when we cleaned up the image was to add a holographic component," said Spider, manipulating the remote. "Now we can see everything in the room."

Spider shifted the angle on the freeze frame…he ran across the smallest oil painting, the cleric's eyes cold and remote…the dueling pistols in their felt-lined box, each flake of rust highlighted on the striker…across the empty case…to the parchment under armored glass. The parchment was hard to read until Spider adjusted the focus…the parchment was an early draft of the Declaration of Independence, with a mention of "Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ" that didn't appear in the final version.

The image onscreen shifted again, moved slowly over the skeletal man curled on the floor, one bony hand outstretched…past the hand…to what lay just out of reach, the small, flat piece of wood…dappled now with tiny white flowers.

"My God," Sarah said softly.

"Those flowers…they weren't there before," said Rakkim.

"No shit," said Leo.

"Are they blooming?" said Rakkim.

Spider nodded. "Rather interesting, wouldn't you say?"

"More than interesting, it's impossible," said Rakkim. "There's been nothing alive in D.C. for the last forty years. Even the cockroaches died."

"Blooming in total darkness," whispered Sarah, still watching the screen. "Eldon really did it. I didn't believe him. I thought he was just trying to get more money out of me."

Spider zoomed in on the piece of wood. The flowers were clearly rooted in the wood itself, a chunk of dark, pitted pine six or seven inches long, maybe four inches thick.

"Those are white anemones, according to the botanical index, by the way," said Spider. "A very archaic form of the modern flower."

Rakkim looked at Sarah.

"I told Eldon I was interested in something important." She reached out, grazed the flowers onscreen with her fingertips. "Not just historically significant, something that would get everyone's attention. That would change…everything." She trembled in the light from the wallscreen. "He'd been looking for two years, said he finally had a lead. Bigger than big, bigger than I could imagine, that's what he said."

"What is it?" said Rakkim.

"I…I could see the way things were going," said Sarah, lip quivering, unable to turn away from the screen. "Even…even before President Kingsley was killed it was clear that the whole country was unraveling."

Rakkim was beside her. "You've been saying that for as long as I've known you." He held her but she pulled away. "We're doing as well as the Belt."

"Exactly," said Sarah. "They're a failed nation just like we are, poor and weak."

"Here we go again," said Rakkim. "Reunification's a fine idea, as long as you get rid of all the people that go to sleep at night praying that God strikes the other side dead."

"There's not that many zealots," said Sarah, "they're just louder than the rest of us. We need something to bring us together, something greater than the things that divide us."

"Yeah, a bunch of posies on a chunk of wood are going to make us all love each other," snorted Leo. He dabbed at his nose with a tissue.

Spider zoomed in, the piece of wood filling the wall, a dull black stain in high relief.

"The cross?" Rakkim looked at Sarah. "Come on."

"You've heard the stories," said Sarah.