8.
"… And so it's my guess," Jack was saying, "that this little truck is going to flip the world on its ear."
Alicia had been relieved to see Jack. Not glad, just relieved that the man at the reception desk asking to see her without an appointment hadn't been Will. He'd already called twice this morning. Alicia knew she couldn't face him, but maybe she could dredge up the courage to talk to him. At the very least she owed him a return call.
But Jack had come in with that toy truck from the house and pulled it apart on her desk, talking a blue streak. Alicia had had a hard time following him at first. She was still dazed from watching Hector die. And then she'd been a little frightened. Jack was positively wired. For a bad moment she'd thought he might be on speed, or maybe peaking in the manic phase of a bipolar disorder. And when she'd heard what he was talking about, she pretty much settled on the latter.
But then he wasn't simply telling her, he was showing her how the Rover didn't have a battery and would only run when the aerial was attached. He called it broadcast power.
"Broadcast power," she said, catching the chassis as it rolled across her desktop. "But that's science fiction."
"So was rocketing to the moon and a computer on your lap—once. Now they're history. But what's got to blow you away even more is the fact that it's all yours."
Was it hers? she wondered. Really? And how much was it worth? A tingle crept over her skin as she realized that a day might come when every lamp, every microwave, every TV, every car in the world would have one of those little transceivers in its works. Worth? Alicia doubted she or anybody else could count that high.
"Not all," she said, remembering something. "A third of it is yours."
Jack cocked his head and gave her a puzzled look. "Mine? But—" •
"Our deal, remember? We split the proceeds—you've got a thirty-three percent share."
"Jeez," Jack said, dropping into a chair. "I forgot all about that."
"I'm sure you would have remembered eventually." She refused to let herself get excited. "But right now you've got a third of nothing. We've only got half of the equation. The receiver's not worth anything without the transmitter."
Jack nodded. "Like taking a TV set back to the 1920s, I guess. Without somebody broadcasting, it's just an expensive night-light."
"Right. So where is it?"
"Uptown," Jack said. "Or maybe farther north of here."
"Because that's the way it keeps running?"
"Got to be," he said, taking the chassis from her. " 'Whither away, fair rover, and what thy quest?' Remember?"
Jack put it on the floor and let it arc across the carpet to end bumping its front end on the uptown wall.
"I think—no, I'm sure its quest is the transmitter."
"So what are you going to do? Put it down on Fifth Avenue and follow it uptown?"
"No… I've got a better idea." He retrieved the chassis and turned off the motor. "Is there a back way out of here?"
"Yes. Ask Raymond. He'll show you."
"Swell. See you later." He stopped at the door and turned. "Hey, I almost forgot. How's the little guy—the one with the haircut?"
"Hector Lopez?" Alicia said, looking away, not wanting to see his face. "He died this morning."
"Aw," Jack said, more of a sigh than a word. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah," Alicia said through her constricting throat. "He was a good little guy."
And then, as precipitously as he'd arrived, Jack was gone, leaving the toy Rover's black plastic body on her desk.
Alicia swallowed to loosen her throat, then let Hector fade from her mind as she remembered the key they'd found along with the truck last night—last night? Had it only been last night? She wondered if Jack had learned what lock it fit.
And then the possibility of broadcast power took over. How many billions might something like that be worth? She thought of what she could do with all that money. She could start a foundation, find homes for kids like those at the Center, fund research to find ways to save future Hectors.
Broadcast power… the power to change the world… hers…
Hers because that man… that monster… had left it to her…
Alicia closed her eyes. She didn't want anything that man had touched. Anything. He had to have known that. So why had he left her this? Was he laughing now from his spot in the darkest, coldest, nastiest corner of hell?
She picked up the Rover body and hurled it against the wall.