The Oracle Year(40)

“I’m not complaining, Johnny, but was that the only reason you came down here? I mean, you could have told us over the phone.”

Will took another sip. Delicious.

“How many times in your life do you get to give someone five million bucks?” he said. “That’s an in-person sort of job. I wanted to see your faces.”

He set his glass down on the coffee table.

“But there is something else. This whole thing, the Oracle, the Site”—Will took a breath, feeling lighter even just for saying the words—“it’s almost done. I wanted to discuss the logistics in person. Will we have any trouble shutting the Site down when we need to?”

Becky and Cathy exchanged a glance.

“No,” Cathy said. “It’s simple. You can pull it off-line any time you want, and you’ve got the codes to run the deletion program I wrote for you. Once that runs, the e-mail system stops cold, and that’s the only hard point of contact. Even if that somehow got tracked down, there’s still no way to trace it back to you, unless you somehow happened to be physically there when the bad guys found it.”

“Not likely,” Will said. “The Oracle doesn’t need it anymore. So no trail? Nothing at all?”

“None, just like you asked for. No way to trace it back to your people, assuming the Oracle’s been following the rules. Everything anonymous, random access points, all that?”

“Absolutely,” Will said.

“So, John,” Becky said, “unlike Cathy during her college days, looks like you’re impenetrable.”

Becky grinned and looked over at her partner, who shrugged and lifted her glass to her lips.

“Yeah, well,” Cathy said.

Becky turned back to Will, her smile fading a bit.

“Can I ask why you’re planning to shut things down? Is the Oracle going to . . . is something going to happen?”

Will looked at the Florida Ladies. They’d both tensed when Becky asked her question. Everything the Oracle had done for them, and they were still frightened of him.

“Nothing’s going to happen,” he said. “It’s just time to end it.”

“And when it’s done, we get the prediction? The one the Oracle promised to give us?”

“Absolutely. The moment the Site’s off-line, it’s all yours.”

The Ladies relaxed, evidently reassured. Will lifted his martini, draining the glass. He stood up.

“Just one, Johnny? Come on. Stay awhile,” Becky said.

“Thanks, but I need to get back. Early flight tomorrow. I’ll just walk along the beach, clear my head before I head back to Fort Myers.”

Will stood and left the house, after a quick hug from Becky Shubman and an escort to the door plus a quick nod from Cathy.

He stood on the path leading from the house to his car and took a deep breath, smelling—almost tasting—the dense, saturated scent of sea salt and green things. Of life.





Chapter 15




“We are at war, my friends,” Hosiah Branson said, “but we are fortunate. Our armies are billions strong.”

He reached into the breast pocket of his suitcoat, pulled out a clean white handkerchief, and mopped his forehead. He was sweating like a hog.

Branson sat in a leather chair at the head of the long, polished mahogany conference table that took up most of the boardroom. He had expected some tension to erupt in connection with the seating arrangements, but the holy men had taken their place-card-marked chairs with a minimum of discussion. That was good—he had put the Pakistani Sunni cleric as far from both the Hindu priest and the Iranian Shiite as he could, who themselves needed to be at opposite ends of the table, with the placement of Rabbi Laufer yet another complicating factor. But perhaps he had overthought the issue. For this one day, at least, differences seemed to have been put aside.

Translators and assistants stood behind each chair, ready to provide whatever services their masters might require. Several televisions on wheeled stands sat at the opposite end of the table. On their screens, heads and shoulders of an additional few religious leaders who had been unable or unwilling to make the journey to Dubai watched through a videoconference link.

The holy men looked expectantly at Branson, waiting for him to continue.

Hosiah took a moment to relish his accomplishment at gathering these men together, then cleared his throat and spoke.

“My friends, thank you for coming today. This is a historic moment, with leaders from so many of the world’s great faiths gathered in one room. Such an event has not happened within my lifetime—unless, of course, I simply wasn’t invited.”

The translators finished. A smattering of laughter, but the majority of the room’s faces remained locked in expressions ranging from blank to outright hostile.

Hosiah swallowed, ignored the sweat running down his back, and continued.

“I am honored that so many of you responded to my call, and I believe it speaks to the gravity of the issue that we currently face. Between us, we are the stewards of faith for, as I said, billions. And when threats to that faith appear, it is our duty to battle on behalf of our people, savagely and with no thought of retreat.

“A battle looms, and I am sure the enemy’s name is familiar to all of you. The Oracle.”

The room began to shift uncomfortably before the translations came through. Oracle was a word everyone knew.