Legacies

14.

Alicia started at the sound of the shot. She looked up and saw Jack limping across the clearing toward her. He looked weary. The Jack who'd driven her up here had changed into someone else, someone as cold and ruthless as the men he'd killed. As she'd bandaged his leg a while ago, she'd sensed the original Jack coming back… but slowly.

"What happened?" she called. "Are you all right?"

He nodded. "Just someone giving himself some permanent pain relief."

That someone could only be the Arab. Good Lord, how had he hung on this long?

"You ready to go?" Jack said. "I'll lead you out."

Alicia shook her head, "You go ahead. I'm going to stay awhile."

"The snow's sticking. You might not be able to get out later."

"That's okay. It's warm inside. And I've got a lot of thinking to do."

"You sure?"

"Very."

"Okay," he said, shrugging. "I'll leave you one of the cell phones. Call me when you get back, and I'll return the car."

"I will."

He turned to go, then turned back to her. "You sure you'll be all right?"

"Positive," she said, putting on a confident smile. "I just need to be alone right now."

"Yeah, well, that's one thing you'll be up here. Take care, Alicia." He waved as he turned. "And hey… Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you, Jack."

Merry Christmas… she'd forgotten all about Christmas. Only three days away… the season to be jolly…

She watched Jack fade into the snowy dusk, then stepped back into the cabin and closed the door.

She'd known from the moment it was over that she'd be staying here awhile. So while Jack was moving the bodies, she did her best to clean the blood from the floor. Finally she'd moved the throw rug from under the table and laid it over the stains.

She stepped over to the humming transformer-transmitter and stared at the beam of palpably bright light.

Technology to change the world… and make Ronald Clayton a revered figure… one of history's great men…

the man of the century… the man of the millennium…

But Ronald Clayton wasn't a great man… wasn't even an ordinary man… he was a monster who sullied every life he touched…

And the thought of history raising monuments to him…

She wanted to retch.

And yet, what right did she have to withhold such a marvel from the world?

None. She was just one person, and there were billions who could benefit.

She could feel the strings… tugging at her… manipulating her like a marionette. And she knew the name of the puppeteer.

Yes… she had a lot of thinking to do.