“When will he regain consciousness?” Soren’s mother clutched her hands together over her heart. Her eyes darted to her husband and back to the doctor. He shook his head.
“I can’t say,” he answered, “but it’s only fair that I be honest with you. The prognosis isn’t promising. I’m going to check with the lab, then set up for an angiogram and X-rays.”
“Thank you,” Soren said. Nadia clasped his hand, squeezing hard as the doctor left.
“He can’t die,” his mother murmured. “He’s always been our rock, the head of our household, the one who had the answers.”
“Daddy,” Gabriella said sharply. “You stood up at Soren’s matching ceremony. You have to be there for mine too. It’s not fair if you aren’t.” He didn’t move, his breathing quiet and shallow.
Holding his mother’s hand, he stared at his father. Soren had never been bold, but he’d always been obedient. What would he do if his father died? Would that make him the head of the household? Not only Krystal, but Nadia and Gabriella would depend on him—not financially, as his mom had a high-level job in the Ministry of Human Optimization—but emotionally.
I’m not ready. I can’t fill his shoes.
The beeping turned insistent. An alarm sounded, and a crew of medical professionals rushed in. “Code Blue, ICU,” rang through the air. Gabriella had to leave their father’s side. She grabbed Soren’s other hand.
The red line, peaking in an awkward rhythm earlier, flattened into a single, unbroken tone. A man performed chest compressions.
“No,” Nadia cried in a small voice. She glanced hopefully at the door as it opened. First Shepherd Severin Dray glided in, his sigil pendant slapping against his white robes. The harsh ICU lights gleamed off his bald head. He was too late to help. Perhaps his words would comfort Soren’s mother and sister.
The room fell silent. The man stopped his efforts. “Time of death,” someone said.
Gabriella sniffed. Soren watched the nurses remove Adélard’s mask and IV. One lifted the white sheet over his face.
“First Shepherd Dray.” Nadia’s voice was small, touched with disbelief. Her haunted eyes searched his. “What now?”
He folded his hands before his pendant, the all-seeing eye encompassed by a radiant pyramid, steepling his fingers. “His cycle is now complete, Lady Delacroix. Adélard will live on through his accomplishments, his contributionsto science, and the stability he brought to the people. Rejoice, my child. His was a life not wasted.”
“Yes, quite so,” she answered solemnly.
Nathan’s unconventional beliefs crashed through, invading Soren’s thoughts like the Iron Army.He said there was no death, that souls continued their journey upon leaving the body behind. There is no proof for that, no experiment, no equation.Silently, he hoped it was true anyway.
“Soren.”
At the sound of his name, he looked up, setting aside his conflicting precepts. Minister Jenner waved to him from the door. Wiggling free of his mother and sister, Soren left the room. Whether traveling on or ceasing to exist, the man who was his father no longer lay in that bed.
“Minister Delacroix’s service has ended,” he reported emotionlessly.
“Yes, son,” Jenner said, steering him down the hallway. “He paved the way for many and administered his office with integrity. The Oracle will remember. First Cipher LeCun needs to speak with you at once.”
He ushered Soren into an examination room guarded by two soldiers. Inside the small office stood the honorable first cipher, his heather-blue suit illuminated by gleaming fluorescents, snowy white, and bright steel. He stood about Soren’s height, glasses tight to his face, silvery hair shining under the lights.
“Forgive my intrusion at this moment of reflection, but time is of the essence,” he said. The door closed, and the two were alone. “Did Adélard tell you about the project he was working on?”
Soren’s chest tightened. He swallowed. “No, sir. My father never revealed state secrets, even to his family. All I know is that it was important for national security.”
LeCun nodded. “Dr. Paval Halberg explained what happened leading up to your father’s heart attack. Understand that we do not blame him.”
Soren dropped into a chair, fearful his knees would not hold steady as the first cipher relayed classified information about a robot army and his father’s role in its development and programming. Then he added details from the field tests, culminating in a series of glitches and a major malfunction.
“They just marched away?” Soren gaped.
“Something had gone dreadfully wrong with this valuable asset,” LeCun stated, “not to mention the potential danger to our citizens. We don’t know the cause of the malfunction, nor how to regain control of the army. That’s why we need you.”
“Me?” he squeaked. “I wasn’t privy to my father’s work. He showed me his office in Core Mountain, a computer console, the Core. If he kept notes, I don’t know where they are.”
“That might be, but we need our best minds on this, and it must be solved quickly. You’re too young to take your father’s place in the Council of Ministers, but you are brilliant enough to step into his scientific shoes. Minister Jenner says you are the most accomplished student at the Institute, and Professor Sakamoto swears by your creative genius and problem-solving skills.”
Soren was flattered, but overwhelmed. He gripped the chair arms to ground himself.