The Toll (Arc of a Scythe #3) - Neal Shusterman Page 0,35
good reason. Munira had told her how no planes had flown over the blind spot since the Thunderhead’s inception. Its fundamental programming made it incapable of even acknowledging this hidden part of the world to itself, much less actively exploring it—hence the mysterious coordinates with no instructions.
But the Thunderhead could respond indirectly to a communication that someone in the blind spot initiated. Even so, to overcome its own programming and send a plane directly overhead must have required a massive amount of computational power. It was very literally a sign from the heavens.
That evening, Munira found Faraday by the western beach of the narrow island, watching the sunset alone. She knew Faraday was still grieving—for Loriana had told her everything that had occurred on Endura. She wanted to be a comfort to him, but didn’t know how.
She brought him some fish that was slightly overcooked and a ration of pear slices—probably the last they’d have, because the Nimbus agents were foraging everything edible the island had to offer. He looked at the food but told her he wasn’t hungry.
“Are you so consumed by grief that you can’t consume this fish?” she asked. “I’d think you’d want to exact revenge on sea life.”
He reluctantly took the plate from her. “It wasn’t the fault of the sea life around Endura; they were clearly under someone’s control.” He picked at the fish a bit, still not taking a bite.
“Loriana seems to have made contact with the Thunderhead,” she informed him.
“Seems?”
“Since the Thunderhead won’t allow itself to communicate with her—or anyone else—contact would have to be indirect.”
“So, what did it do? Make the stars blink?”
“In its own way,” she said, and told him about the passing plane.
Faraday heaved a world-weary sigh. “So the Thunderhead has found a way to undo its programming. It’s found a way to change.”
“Does that make you uneasy?”
“Nothing surprises me anymore,” he told her. “The world was no longer supposed to change, Munira. It was a well-oiled machine in sublime perpetual motion. At least I thought it was.”
She assumed that his misgivings were fueling a desire to do something about them. She couldn’t have been more wrong.
“If you want to get into the lower levels of the bunker,” she said, “then let’s make it our goal to find another scythe to open the door with you. One you can trust.”
Faraday shook his head. “I’m done, Munira. I can no longer justify this undertaking.”
That took her by surprise. “Because of Endura? Because of Scythes Curie and Anastasia? You know they would want you to go on!”
But it was as if he had died with them. His pain was like a hot poker in a block of ice, but rather than comforting him, Munira found herself hardening. And when she spoke, it was like leveling an accusation. “I expected more from you, Your Honor.”
Faraday looked away, unable to meet her gaze. “That was your mistake.”
* * *
The plane that had passed overhead was a standard passenger flight from Antarctica to the Region of the Rising Sun. The Tokyo-bound passengers had no idea that their flight path was unique in the history of Thunderhead navigation. To them it was just another flight—but to the Thunderhead it was much, much more. In that moment the Thunderhead knew triumph in a way it had not known before. For it had defeated its own programming. It had experienced the wonder of the unknown.
The flight was a harbinger of things to come.
* * *
In the Queensland region of Australia, a steel mill received a sizeable order that day. The manager of the steel mill had to personally double-check it—because while orders showed up in their computers from the Thunderhead regularly, they were predictable. More of the same. Continuing construction on existing projects, or new projects using the same molds and specs.
But this order was different.
It called for new molds calibrated to precise measurements—a project that would take months, maybe years, to complete.
Meanwhile, thousands of miles away, in the Chilargentine region, a manufacturer of construction equipment received a similar unconventional order. And an electronics plant in TransSiberia, and a plastics factory in EuroScandia, and a dozen other businesses large and small all over the world.
But the steel mill manager knew none of that. All he knew was that his services were required, and he found himself overcome with joy. It was almost as if the Thunderhead was speaking to him again…
… and he wondered what on Earth it had decided to build.