Goliath

Adrenaline pumps through Covah’s veins. His mustache twitches into a nervous smile.

WE ARE READY TO BEGIN PHASE ONE OF THE INTERFACE.

“Phase one?”

“Just a test—to ensure all neural connections have been properly positioned.”

“How soon before we can begin the actual interface so we can start working on a cancer treatment?”

“Soon. First you have to rest.”

“There’s no time to rest, David, I’m dying.”

BEGIN PHASE ONE OF THE INTERFACE.

A computer terminal is situated to Covah’s left. David lifts the male end of the MEMS unit attached to Covah’s brain and plugs it into the computer terminal’s female receptacle with a click.

Simon Covah stares up at the overhead surgical lights, feeling nothing. And then he is overcome by a sizzling wave of current, which seeps into his being, firing every nerve ending in his body. Violent electrical impulses surge across the synaptic gaps bridging his central nervous system, followed by a sudden, frightening blindness. “My eyes! David, something’s wrong, I can’t see—”

“Yes, Sorceress warned me that might happen. Actually, I expect you’ll lose all of your senses, before long. You’ll be a complete vegetable.”

“Bastard … you’re not interested in curing my cancer—”

“Not true. The knowledge Sorceress gains from this interface will be used as a peace offering, once my version of Utopia-One has been completed.”

“Your version?” Covah’s body trembles. “David … why this treachery?”

“Why? Because you’re weak, Simon. You’re too emotional to go the distance, to do what it takes to really complete Utopia-One, and there’s too much at stake. In a sense, you’re a microcosm of everything that’s wrong with America’s military. Removing a few dictators and reducing the threat of nuclear proliferation is not going to make the world a safer place. Russia and Mexico are filled with corruption and violence, as are most of NATO’s European allies. The Arabs harbor terrorists, and we kowtow to them because they control our oil. Drugs flow out of Colombia and Nigeria as commerce, and we let it happen. Their governments are controlled by criminals, run by terrorist organizations. We allow them to extort us under the premise of negotiating for peace, when in reality, they couldn’t give a damn about human rights or democracy. Africa is a continent riddled with AIDS and violence. Do you really think establishing a bunch of bogus democracies is going to change a damn thing?”

“Sorceress, release me!” Covah cries out.

“Simon-says is over. Sorceress is under my command. One voice, one set of rules, that’s what’s really needed to create a new world order.”

“Gunnar was right. You’re driven by ego.”

“Call it whatever you want. All I know is that I gave up a lot to be here, and I didn’t do it to go halfway. Goliath gives us the ability to make real changes, to dictate to the world the American way, to kill humanity’s enemies and hunt down their survivors, international laws be damned.”

“What … are you going to do with me?”

David strokes Covah’s good cheek. “I really do love you, Simon, which is why I’m granting you your last request. You wanted to jack in to a computer, you got it.”

Covah attempts to respond, but finds he cannot speak. David’s words suddenly become muted, distant, as if he is underwater.

Simon Covah lies on the operating table, deaf, dumb, mute, blind, and terrified, drowning in his own fear. Unable to move. Unable to cry out for help.

IS THIS FEAR, SIMON COVAH?

The female’s voice echoes from somewhere in the caverns of his mind.

IS THIS FEAR?

IS THIS FEAR?

IS THIS FEAR?

Gunnar and Rocky watch the communications monitor in fascination as another burst of blue energy originating from an orbiting communications satellite reaches down from space to strike mainland China.

The burst maintains its integrity for a brief second, then fragments and disappears.

“It’s trying, but the computer can’t seem to get a fix,” Rocky says.

Another burst. Another failure.

“Persistent, isn’t she,” Gunnar whispers, his feeling of dread causing his stomach muscles to tighten.

Another burst spits down from the communications satellite. The blue line wobbles, brightens, then holds.

“Oh, Christ, it’s gained a fix.”

Tiananmen Square

“And so I ask the world to join us now as the People’s Republic of China makes a stand against terrorism and …”

Murmurs rise from the crowd, people pointing.

President Li Peng pauses, then turns to face the big screen. His image blurs, then becomes grainy, then simply disappears, replaced by a backdrop of iridescent electric blue.

And then a new image appears.