Chapter 7 - The Memory Beneath the MemoryVoss controlled every screen in the Denver safe house for exactly forty-one seconds.
Long enough to prove he could.
Long enough to terrify everyone inside.
Then the monitors went black.
Nathan unplugged the communications system.
“That network was isolated.”
Graham looked at him.
“Apparently not.”
“No external connection.”
Evelyn stared at the blank screens.
“Helix doesn’t need one.”
Avery turned.
“What?”
“Early versions could communicate through infrastructure maintenance channels. Power lines. Railway signaling. Emergency frequencies.”
Graham understood.
“So any connected city system could become a network.”
“Yes.”
Avery felt suddenly surrounded.
Phones could be abandoned.
Internet connections could be cut.
Yet Helix lived inside the physical skeleton of cities.
They could not simply go offline.
“We leave now,” Nathan said.
This time nobody argued.
They drove east in separate vehicles.
Nathan and Evelyn took one route.
Avery and Graham took another.
They agreed to meet outside Chicago eighteen hours later.
For the first four hours Avery barely spoke.
Graham drove.
Snow gave way to highway darkness.
Eventually Avery said:
“Were you afraid?”
He glanced at her.
“When?”
“At the wedding.”
“Yes.”
The answer surprised her.
“Of Conrad?”
“No.”
“Voss?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Graham kept his eyes on the road.
“That you would wake up and believe I had taken advantage of you.”
Avery looked down at her hands.
“For a while, I did.”
“I know.”
“You could have told me everything before the ceremony.”
“I tried.”
“I don’t remember.”
“You were already experiencing memory gaps.”
“Because of the drug.”
“Yes.”
Graham’s hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“I wanted to wait. You refused.”
Avery turned.
“What did I say?”
He was quiet.
“Tell me.”
“You said you had spent your entire life letting people make choices for you because you were afraid of being difficult.”
That sounded painfully familiar.
“You said if there was one decision that night capable of changing your life, you wanted it to belong to you.”
Avery swallowed.
“And then?”
“You married me.”
She looked out the window.
The dark plains seemed endless.
“Was there really no other way to protect the trust?”
“No.”
“What about protecting me?”
“I could have hidden you.”
“My father tried that.”
“Yes.”
“And it didn’t work.”
“No.”
Silence again.
Then Avery asked:
“If none of this had happened, would you ever have told me?”
Graham knew what she meant.
About his feelings.
The almost-confession in the truck.
He answered slowly.
“Probably not.”
“Why?”
“You worked for me.”
“That is surprisingly ethical.”
“I have occasional weaknesses.”
Avery smiled faintly.
“Also,” he continued, “you disliked me.”
“I did not dislike you.”
“You called me an emotionally constipated tyrant.”
Avery turned sharply.
“You heard that?”
“The conference room microphone was still on.”
She covered her face.
“Oh, God.”
“Julian from finance laughed for three minutes.”
“I’m resigning.”
“You can’t.”
“Why?”
“You’re married to the CEO.”
“That is exactly why I’m resigning.”
He actually laughed.
The sound startled both of them.
Avery stared.
In eight months she had heard Graham laugh perhaps twice.
This one was real.
Warm.
Human.
It made something inside her dangerously soft.
Then headlights appeared behind them.
Three vehicles.
Fast.
Graham’s laughter vanished.
“Seat belt.”
“I’m already wearing it.”
“Make sure.”
The vehicles accelerated.
One moved beside them.
Avery saw a man lower the passenger window.
Gun.
“Graham!”
He swerved.
Shots struck the rear panel.
Avery ducked.
Graham accelerated.
The sedan was fast, but the attackers had larger engines.
Another vehicle moved ahead.
They were being boxed in.
“Can you shoot?” Graham asked.
“No!”
“Good.”
“How is that good?”
“I prefer honesty.”
He reached beneath the seat and handed her a flare gun.
Avery stared.
“What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Improvise.”
“You are supposed to be the billionaire with trained security.”
“I left the trained security in Vegas.”
“Excellent planning.”
Another bullet struck the window.
The glass spiderwebbed.
Graham swerved onto an exit ramp.
The pursuing SUV followed.
Avery looked ahead.
Construction barriers.
Dead end.
“Graham.”
“I see it.”
“You are driving toward a concrete wall.”
“I know.”
“That usually ends badly.”
“Trust me.”
“That phrase has had a terrible week.”
At the last second Graham turned sharply through a gap between barriers.
The smaller sedan fit.
The SUV did not.
It slammed into plastic barricades.
The second vehicle continued.
Avery looked behind them.
“It’s still coming.”
“Use the flare.”
“What?”
“Shoot the windshield.”
“I have never fired anything.”
“Point and pull.”
“This is your plan?”
“It’s the current plan.”
Avery rolled down the window.
Wind tore through the car.
The pursuing vehicle moved closer.
She aimed.
Pulled the trigger.
The flare missed the windshield.
It flew through the open passenger window.
A second later orange light exploded inside the SUV.
The driver swerved violently.
Graham stared at her.
“I said windshield.”
“I improvised.”
The SUV disappeared behind them.
They drove another forty miles before stopping at an abandoned gas station.
Avery’s hands shook uncontrollably.
Graham came around the vehicle.
“You’re okay.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You’re not injured.”
“That is not the same thing.”
He stopped.
“You’re right.”
Avery leaned against the car.
Adrenaline drained out of her.
“I almost killed someone.”
“They were shooting at us.”
“I know.”
“That doesn’t make it easy.”
“No.”
He stood beside her without touching her.
For once, he did not tell her what to feel.
Avery appreciated him for it.
After a moment she whispered:
“I remember something.”
Graham turned.
“What?”
“When the flare went off.”
“What did you remember?”
“Fire.”
She closed her eyes.
A room.
A tower.
Her mother.
Voss.
A younger Conrad.
And another man.
Thomas Reed.
She had been four years old, sitting beneath a desk.
Adults shouted.
Nathan had blood on his shirt.
Evelyn was crying.
Thomas Reed knelt before Avery.
He placed both hands around hers.
“Avery, listen carefully.”
The memory sharpened.
“If anyone asks, the key sleeps where the river runs backward.”
Young Avery nodded.
“And who protects it?”
“The man without a shadow.”
Thomas looked toward someone standing behind him.
A man.
Young.
Dark-haired.
Voss.
No.
Not Voss.
Someone else.
Avery opened her eyes.
“Graham.”
“What?”
“The man without a shadow wasn’t Voss.”
“Who was it?”
“I couldn’t see his face.”
“Why not?”
“He was standing behind a light.”
Avery pressed fingers to her temple.
“And there was something on his hand.”
“What?”
“A ring.”
“The Helix symbol?”
“No.”
She remembered.
A black stone.
Silver band.
A crest.
Graham’s face changed.
“What?”
“My grandfather had a ring like that.”
Avery stared.
“Your grandfather?”
“Edmund Reed.”
“The founder?”
“Yes.”
“Was he part of Helix?”
“He created the company division that built it.”
Avery’s stomach tightened.
“Everyone keeps blaming Conrad.”
“With reason.”
“But what if Conrad isn’t the person Thomas was hiding the key from?”
Graham went still.
“Edmund died twenty years ago.”
“Did he?”
Graham stared.
After everything that had happened, neither of them found death certificates particularly reassuring.
They reached the meeting point outside Chicago the next evening.
Nathan and Evelyn were already there.
Avery immediately asked about Edmund Reed.
Nathan’s expression changed.
“He died.”
“You saw the body?”
“No.”
“Did Evelyn?”
“No.”
Graham swore.
Nathan frowned.
“What happened?”
Avery explained the memory.
Evelyn became pale.
“The black ring.”
“You know it?”
“It belonged to the original Helix council.”
“Council?”
Nathan looked furious.
“You never told me about that.”
“I didn’t know until after we separated.”
Avery folded her arms.
“Another secret organization. Perfect.”
Evelyn explained.
Helix had been supervised by five private-sector directors working with government officials.
Each wore a ring bearing the same black stone.
Edmund Reed chaired the council.
“What happened to the other members?” Graham asked.
“Two died. One disappeared. Conrad inherited Edmund’s seat.”
“And the fifth?”
Evelyn looked at Avery.
“Elias Voss.”
Graham shook his head.
“Voss would have been too young.”
“He inherited his father’s seat.”
Avery’s mind raced.
“So this didn’t begin with Conrad.”
“No.”
“It began with Edmund.”
“Yes.”
“And Thomas discovered his father was involved.”
Evelyn nodded.
“That would explain why Thomas was terrified.”
Graham looked as if the ground beneath him had shifted.
For years he had believed his father had been protecting the Reed legacy from Conrad.
Now perhaps Thomas had been trying to protect the world from the legacy itself.
Nathan unfolded blueprints.
“The old Reed site is here.”
Avery recognized the Chicago River district immediately.
“Construction?”
“Abandoned redevelopment lot,” Graham said. “We still own it through a subsidiary.”
Nathan pointed to a tunnel beneath the property.
“The pumping station connects to the original archive.”
“How do we enter?”
“Through the river access.”
Avery stared at the diagram.
“Of course it’s through a river.”
Graham looked at her.
“You can stay here.”
She gave him a look.
“You know the answer.”
“Yes.”
“Then stop asking.”
At 2:13 the following morning, they entered the old pumping station.
Rust covered the ladders.
Water dripped from concrete ceilings.
Avery wore a headlamp and followed Graham down.
Nathan and Evelyn remained above to watch the access route.
At the bottom, Graham found an old steel door.
No keypad.
Only a circular depression.
Avery removed the gold ring.
It fit perfectly.
The door unlocked.
Beyond it was a corridor untouched for decades.
At the end stood another door.
This one had no handle.
Only a camera.
A red light appeared.
A mechanical voice spoke.
“Identify authorized user.”
Avery swallowed.
“Avery Evelyn Cross.”
“Biometric verification required.”
A scanner illuminated.
She placed her hand against it.
Nothing.
Then she remembered the childhood phrase.
“The key sleeps where the river runs backward.”
The light changed from red to green.
“Secondary verification.”
Avery looked at Graham.
“The man without a shadow.”
The door opened.
Inside was a room filled with old servers.
Most were dead.
One remained illuminated.
A monitor activated.
A video began.
Thomas Reed appeared.
Older than in the photograph.
Tired.
“If you are watching this, Avery, then Graham is probably beside you.”
Graham froze.
Thomas looked directly into the camera.
“Son, I’m sorry.”
Graham’s breathing changed.
“I spent too much of your childhood trying to preserve a company that should never have existed in its present form.”
Avery looked at him.
Thomas continued.
“Helix was not corrupted after it was created.”
Avery’s stomach dropped.
“It was designed for control from the beginning.”
Graham whispered, “No.”
“Your grandfather knew. Conrad knew. The council knew.”
The video paused.
Then Thomas said:
“And Nathan Cross knew before any of us.”
Avery went completely still.
Graham looked at her.
Thomas continued.
“Nathan did not discover Helix.”
Avery’s pulse began pounding.
“He helped build it.”
Behind them, a gun clicked.
Avery turned slowly.
Nathan stood in the doorway.
Weapon raised.
May you like
His expression empty.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t reach that part.”
Related Stories
