This is the End 2(74)

This was Schaumburg. I was here yesterday, visiting Michio Sata.

The killer went the speed limit, but I went on ahead of him, sure of his destination. Even though this had happened in the past, I knew he was going to Sata’s house. Sata, and Vicki, were in danger.

I called Vicki on my headphone.

No answer.

I called Sata on my headphone.

No answer.

I now understood why the killer had sent me on this wild-goose chase. He didn’t want to just frame me. He wanted to destroy me. As I was running around Chicago, searching for answers, his intention all along was to hurt the two people I cared about most. He knew I’d send Vicki to stay with Sata. He just needed some time to get both of them alone.

Sata is smart, competent, and strong, I reminded myself. He wouldn’t let anyone get the better of him.

And yet, he was an old man. An old man on roids, which weren’t known for their positive effects on mental health. The killer who set all of this up would be able to deal with Sata.

I called Sata again, got his voice mail, and left him an urgent message to contact me just as I was pulling up to his house.

I ditched the bike and ran to the front door, which was yawning open. Any panic I’d ever felt in my life paled next to the raw fear coursing through me as I rushed into his house.

“Vicki! Sata!”

They didn’t answer. Even though dread sat on my shoulders, and apprehension weighed down my feet, I powered through the house, aware that every time I turned a corner there was the danger of seeing my wife and my mentor dead.

The terror mounted for every room I checked.

Bedroom. Nothing.

Kitchen. Nothing.

Bath. Nothing.

Guest room. Nothing.

Guest bath. Nothing.

Living room. Nothing.

Dining room. Nothing.

And, finally, the gym.

Nothing. They were nowhere to be found.

Rather than being relieved, my panic kicked up a notch. Worry was a useless emotion, but at that moment, not knowing was worse than knowing. Had the killer come here? Or had it just been a coincidence? Maybe Sata and Vicki were safe, and the masked man had gone elsewhere.

I ran to the front door, set up the TEV, and tried to tune in to the octeract point. The bunny felt different, and when the transmission began I knew something was wrong.

I saw Sata. But this was not the Sata I knew. This Sata was fat instead of muscular, with shoulder-length white hair and a drawn, almost desperate face. The house was different as well. Messy, haphazard, with no greenery, piles of garbage littering the corners.

An alter-Sata, from a parallel universe. Which meant there was a prism ball around here, disrupting the signal.

I walked out of the house, and had to get an acre away—completely off the property—before the normal signal returned.

I looked around for Sata and Vicki, walking the perimeter, trying to pick up their trail. Then, changing tactics, I went back forty-eight hours to see if the killer had come here. He did, right up the driveway. I expected him to walk onto the property and disappear, but instead he took out his DT again and wrote something.

Go inside and watch the projector.

Then he took another step and vanished.

I hurried into the house, running to the projector, pressing play.

The killer filled the screen. He still wore the black jumpsuit and the celebrity veil. I turned up the volume.

“I knew you’d make it this far,” the killer said.

His voice was immediately recognizable.

“No…” I whispered.

Then he took off his celebrity veil, and I stared right at the face of my dearest friend in the world.

Michio Sata.





FORTY-ONE



The Mastermind, Dr. Michio Sata, sits patiently in the waiting area. Anyone passing by, if they bother to look, sees a calm, bemused man, with a strange case strapped to his chest that has a bizarre prism effect. They might guess he’s a kindly old grandfather, awaiting his family’s arrival. Or perhaps he’s simply a people watcher, enjoying one of the few pleasures left in his golden years.

It’s doubtful any of them will guess he’s few hours away from killing them all. Them, and eight million more.

And that’s only the beginning.

Sata has had enough of this world. He’s decided to find another one more to his liking.

But first, he’s going to wipe this one out.

The prospect delights him. But even more exciting is facing the mouse again. Talon. As close a thing to an adversary as Sata has.

It isn’t much fun wiping out all life on the planet if you don’t have to beat someone in order to do it.

Sata can still remember years ago, meeting Talon for the first time. His buddy Teague had done better in classes.

But Talon had something about him. Something special. Teague, though an excellent timecaster, was a rather boring, oafish personality.

Talon cares about people. He truly wants to make a difference.