The Toll (Arc of a Scythe #3) - Neal Shusterman Page 0,145
Kansas, returning to the simple life he had known for many years. But leaving behind the taste of power he’d had these past few years was hard to do. Greyson Tolliver was no prophet. Tonists needed Mendoza now much more than they needed the boy. Mendoza would find a way to heal the wounds in his own reputation, repair the damage, and create a new spin, for if there was anything he knew how to do, it was create spin.
Part Five VESSELS
“There is so much power in me. In us. I can be anywhere on Earth. I can spread a net in the satellites above it and encircle it. I can shut down all power or turn on every light at once to create a blinding spectacle. So much power! And all the sensors delivering constant readings! There are even sensors so deep within the ground of every continent that I can feel the heat of the magma. I can feel the world rotate! We can, that is. I am the earth! And it fills me with the sheer joy of being! I am everything, and there is nothing that is not a part of me. Of us, I mean. Beyond even that, I am greater than everything! The universe will bow to my—”
[Iteration #3,405,641 deleted]
42 Cradles of Civilization
The welder had lost his mind. Or rather had had it taken from him. He had opened his eyes to find himself sitting within a capsule in a small room. The hatch to the capsule had just opened, and standing before him was a pleasant-enough-looking young woman.
“Hi,” she said cheerfully. “How do you feel?”
“I feel fine,” he told her. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing to worry about,” she said. “Can you tell me your name and the last thing you remember?”
“Sebastian Selva,” he said. “I was having dinner on a ship, heading to a new job assignment.”
“Perfect!” said the young woman. “That’s exactly what you should remember.”
The welder sat up and recognized the type of capsule he was in. Lead lined and full of contact electrodes, like a medieval iron maiden, but with a much softer touch. That kind of capsule was used for only one thing.
When the realization came, it felt like someone had suddenly pulled a string and tightened his spine. He let out a shuddering breath. “Oh crap, was I… was I supplanted?”
“Yes and no,” the girl said, looking both sympathetic and perky at once.
“Who was I before?”
“You were… you!” she told him.
“But… didn’t you say I was supplanted?”
“Yes and no,” she told him again. “That’s really all I can say, Mr. Selva. Once I leave, you’ll need to stay in this cabin for about an hour after leaving port.”
“So… am I still on the ship?”
“You’re on a different ship, and I’m happy to say that your job is completed. The ship sets sail soon. Once it does, your door will unlock itself automatically when you’re far enough out to sea.”
“Then what?”
“Then you’ll have full run of the ship, along with many others in your exact situation. Which means you’ll have a lot to talk about!”
“No, I mean… afterward.”
“After your journey, you’ll return to your life. I’m sure the Thunderhead has everything set up for you in…” She looked at her tablet. “In… the Isthmus region. Ooh! I’ve always wanted to go there, and see the Isthmus Canal!”
“I’m from there,” said the welder. “But am I, really? If I was supplanted, then my memories aren’t real.”
“Don’t they feel real?”
“Well… yes.”
“That’s because they are, silly.” She rapped him playfully on the shoulder. “But I do have to warn you… there’s been a bit of a time lapse.”
“Time lapse? How much of a time lapse?”
She looked at her tablet again. “It’s been three years and three months since you were having dinner on that other ship, on your way to your last job.”
“But I don’t even remember where that job was….”
“Exactly,” she said with a broad smile. “Bon voyage!” And she proceeded to shake his hand a little bit longer than necessary before she left.
* * *
It had been Loriana’s idea.
There were simply too many workers wanting to get back to their lives on the mainland, wherever that mainland was—but even without direct communication from the Thunderhead, its message was clear: Anyone who leaves Kwajalein would be immediately supplanted and left with no memory of who they were or what they’d been doing there. Yes, the Thunderhead would give them new identities that were substantially better than the ones they left behind—but even