Spirits of the Earth: The Complete Series: (A Post-Apocalyptic Series Box Set: Books 1-3) Milo Fowler (different e readers TXT) 📖

and another hologram is projected upward. This time, instead of a skyline, the face of a severe-looking woman in a black, high-collared uniform rotates my way. Her head is clean-shaven, her eyes dark and intelligent.

"Chancellor Hawthorne," she greets me without a hint of emotion on her stoic face. A beautiful woman, if she cared to nurture that aspect of her appearance. "A pleasure, as always."

"Commander Bishop." I fold my arms. "Tell me what you're doing about our enhanced terrorist."

She doesn't ask how I already know. "He has been identified, and my operatives are closing in on his location. I will contact you personally as soon as we have him in custody."

"You do that. And delete the footage of his rooftop acrobatics. I don't want it leaking onto the Linkstream and inspiring more of his ilk."

She nods. "Already done, Chancellor."

"That fool wanted us to see him in action..." I tap my chin with an index finger. "We must assume he has associates in the city."

"If the sun smiles on us, we'll catch them all in the same den."

"I'll leave you to it." But I don't disconnect. I watch her for a moment, and she looks right back at me. "The enforcer who chased him down. Was it Sera Chen?"

Mara dips her chin. "Yes."

"I want her on desk duty until further notice."

"Yes, Chancellor." No expression. No alteration in tone.

I nod to Emmanuel, and he ends the transmission with a wave of his hand. Mara's image dissolves like mist under the sun.

"Delete your copy of that footage as well, Emmanuel." We can't be too careful. Such enhanced physical abilities are unheard of among dust users. I should know. "Send out a notice on all channels reminding citizens of the consequences for buying, selling, or using dust. Include images of their fellow citizens enjoying all that VR has to offer."

Why put themselves in danger when they can have the same experiences in a safe, virtual environment? Because it's artificial. The power isn't real, and the human brain knows the difference. VR is nowhere near as exhilarating.

And nothing is more tantalizing than an illicit substance.

It's unclear how the dust works exactly, why it endows its users with a variety of abilities—yet only one per person. I have never been able to breathe underwater, see in the dark, or leap from great heights. As Chancellor, the dust-enhanced ability to overhear any conversation is indeed helpful, and if I believed in a higher power, I might wonder if this ability was tailor-made specifically for me. If so, then the terrorist that Sera Chen failed to apprehend must have appreciated his personalized ability as well, necessary to elude such an ambitious enforcer.

One of the Twenty.

"Is everything in order for the banquet this weekend?"

Emmanuel blinks, but he's not emerging from virtual space. He's confused by the abrupt shift in our conversation. But he covers it well, smiling the way he does when he wants me to know he has everything under control.

"Yes, Chancellor. The Twenty have been notified that their presence is requested. All but one have confirmed their attendance."

One guess as to the only invitee yet to respond. "Sera Chen."

He nods. "I can send her a reminder—"

"She doesn't need to be reminded. She'll be there." I return to my chair. "Well then. If that is all…"

With a nod and slight bow, Emmanuel backs away a few steps before making an about-face and exiting my office. The morning briefing now concluded, he can return to his regular duties: keeping tabs on the analysts and monitoring the data that pours in every hour by the bucket load. If there is anything worthy of my attention, he will let me know.

Or I will discover it myself.

Absently, I pat the snuff box in my pocket as my thoughts drift, pondering what I overheard earlier. Emmanuel feeling the need to cover for his sister's actions. What was that all about? Something to do with this enhanced terrorist? Or with Mara Bishop's favorite curfew enforcer?

I tap my temple while simultaneously wiping my left hand through the air over my desk. My neural implants activate another hologram, this one a rotating, three-dimensional diamond. Each facet displays the face of one member of the Twenty. Young. Attractive. High-functioning members of society. Ten male, ten female.

I can't believe it has already been two decades since we brought those incubation chambers over from the Wastes. All twenty of them healthy specimens who have grown up in Eurasia and now reside throughout the Ten Domes, living their lives and contributing to their communities. All of them turning twenty years of age this weekend. What a reason to celebrate.

The banquet will be revelatory for them. They've known they are special, born at a time when no citizens were able to conceive. After a decade of sterility across Eurasia, they were the first births to follow the Terminal Age—the last generation we thought we would ever see. Emmanuel and Mara's generation.

But now the Twenty will finally learn why they have been so important to us, why there were so many doctor's visits once they reached puberty. I will share with them the joy they brought to so many married couples over the past eight years as Dr. Solomon Wong spliced adoptive parents' DNA with gametes from the Twenty, creating hundreds of newborns from artificial wombs. In so doing, he created our next generation of Eurasians.

Of course, the Twenty could never be allowed to reproduce with one another. Half of them are siblings, after all. Without Dr. Wong's genetic manipulation, the gene pool would be too shallow, with significant birth defects as a result. This way, the children we produce share some genetic material with the adults who raise them, as well as their original progenitors—two males, two females. According to Arthur Willard, all four consenting adults were uninfected residents of his subterranean refuge, and they willingly volunteered their sex cells to be harvested. Such noble individuals.

I reach for the hovering diamond with its twenty facets, displaying the faces I have watched