Survival Gene. Science Fiction Novel. Artsun Akopyan

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mother’s words seemed to be logical. Maybe Emily was right too, although he suspected she’d say anything to be with her father again. Of course, it would be better to change than to die. But how real was the threat? President CHENG Wenming promised them all problems would be solved. Arrestee Emily Housman asserted that the President lied. Who to believe?

      I must know exactly if the refuge for the government is being built. If yes, things are really in a bad way.

      “Mom, go back home, lock up and call me at once if a Cadillac with those guys shows up, okay?”

      “Yes, my boy.”

      He kissed his mother and made for his electromobile. “Emily, get in the car.”

      “Where are we going?”

      “You’ll find out soon.”

      Chapter 5

      There was more free space on Dixie Highway now. A portion of wrecked vehicles has been removed from the road, the rest stood on the right-hand shoulder. Driving at the maximum possible speed, Barkov passed the airplane crash location in just ten minutes. The fire had already been put out, but the plane hull and remains of the buildings it had struck were still smoking.

      At the crossroads right after the metro station, he turned to Rickenbacker Causeway. To the right of the road, stood the stone fence of the Alice Wainwright Park; behind it stretched a solid wall of leaf-bearing trees. Residential skyscrapers dominated on the left. Ahead of them a bright shield with the inscription “Welcome to Biscayne Key Island Paradise” stood conspicuously on the green grass in front of the central mall.

      “Already to paradise? Isn’t it too early?” Emily said darkly.

      Glancing at the rear-view mirror, Andrew realized that he had broken protocol by forgetting to raise the partition. But that was a mere trifle compared to what he was going to do on the island.

      “A smart aleck lives in this ‘paradise’. It’s necessary that we convince him that we act on behalf of the World Government.”

      “Why?”

      “He’s able to procure any kind of information. If what you said about the asylum proves to be true, I’ll try to help your father.”

      “Hurrah!” the girl yelled.

      Giving a start of surprise, Andrew glanced at the mirror again. Emily’s eyes were shining with joy.

      This girl is very emotional. It’s easier to understand such people, but it’s harder to control them.

      They were approaching the Rickenbacker Causeway toll plaza. In fact, it was not one causeway but two, connected sequentially with bridges. The road led to a small island, Virginia Key. From there, one could get to Biscayne Key via another bridge.

      No less than a hundred electromobiles accumulated before the toll plaza. It had never happened within Andrew’s memory. It was not difficult to guess the reason. The automatic toll system was down because of the gravitation leap, so drivers had to pay the old-fashioned way with credit cards and cash. Andrew drove his car to booth number three between concrete guard rails as the queue was a bit smaller there.

      Music drifted from a nearby car. A well-known Italian singer was belting out a song about unhappy love. A happy man, singing his heart out like that. What a strong and beautiful voice he has! I’ll never have one, even if Mortimer coached me day and night.

      Unintentionally, Barkov started to tap with his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the music. Suddenly his heartbeat sped up, and an unpleasant tingling started in his right temple. A distinct image appeared before his eyes. An off-road beige colored Lexus… A young man in the back seat… Black curly hair, a hooked nose… A leather holster with a Beretta pistol in it… Long, thin fingers touch the plastic fastener on the holster…

      In a moment, the image disappeared. Andrews heartbeat slowed down gradually.

      Andrew knew what it meant: someone had wanted to put a bullet in Andrew’s temple, but had suddenly changed his mind or was just distracted.

      Barkov turned his head right. In the queue leading to booth number two there was a beige Lexus, exactly the same as Andrew had just envisioned. A middle-aged blond fat man was sitting at the wheel and a curly headed young man with the hooked nose was in the backseat. Both of them were looking to another side. There was evident tension in their posture.

      Who are they? Why did that guy want to shoot at me?

      “What’s wrong?” Emily asked and exclaimed in surprise as she traced Andrew’s eyes, “Oh! They’re here too.”

      “Your accomplices?” Barkov inquired thinking about what to do – flee or attack.

      “No. Just employees of the security department of the company my father delivers… delivered vegetables to. Do you know them?”

      “Not in the least. But they seem to know me.”

      He couldn’t attack first. There were too many people around who could be wounded. Besides, how would he prove in court that he had acted in self-defense? The vision he had in his head would not be taken into account! In fact, revealing it could only draw questions about whether he was genetically modified.

      He looked around. Electromobiles were packed in solid rows. It was impossible to jump the queue, even if he turned on the police siren. It was also impossible to turn around.

      Suddenly he noticed that a gap appeared in the adjacent row: some cars moved forward, but the next driver lingered. Andrew turned the wheel to the left, pressed the accelerator and slid into the vacant place.

      An indignant signal resounded from the back. Ignoring it, Barkov cast a glance to the right. The queue closed up there, and a shield in the form of a minibus appeared between him and the potential killer.

      “What is this maneuver for?” Emily said.

      “I’m saving my skin. One of those boys wants me dead.”

      “I don’t think so. Those are ordinary guards! Probably they’re going to the beach.”

      “To wash off the blood?”

      Watching the Lexus from the corner of his eye, Barkov drove the car into the narrow passage between guard rails up toward the toll booth. The possibility of maneuvering was lost, but Andrew felt no threat in his head anymore. Probably the curly headed man decided not to attack in such an inconvenient and populous place.

      The cars were moving forward slowly. Finally, his Ford reached the open booth window. Taking a banknote from his pocket, Andrew held it out to the officer in an orange waistcoat. The officer, fumbling with more cash than he normally encountered in a month, started to look for the right change, and Andrew quickly said, “Keep the change.”

      A green color lit up at the exit for him. Slightly touching the accelerator pedal with his foot, Barkov squinted to the right. The Lexus was still in the queue – there were two cars before it. So, Andrew had a minute head start or a bit more on the guys. Can I escape within that time?

      He

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