“You are planning to permanently alter the site, though,” I said. “A nuclear explosion will do that.”
“Well, that’s true,” Sanders conceded. “But they’ll think we went up with it. But in fact, a cargo-size copter is coming to take away our lab container and me and my crew. It’ll be here presently. You folks came just as we were wrapping things up.” Sanders slapped his thighs and stood. “So, let’s go ahead and put a pin in things, shall we?”
“You don’t want to ask us any more questions?” I asked.
“Not really, no,” Sanders said. “I thought I did? But I know how you came through, I know no one knows you’re here, and I know no one knows I or my family’s company is behind this. You’re all going to die and be vaporized. What else do I need to know?”
“We have more questions,” Aparna said.
“I’m sure you do, but that’s not actually how this works. But I hope that you enjoyed the monologuing.”
“We did,” Kahurangi said. “And so will KPS headquarters.”
Sanders paused. “Come again?”
Kahurangi nodded to the remote control–looking thing on the ground. “That’s been recording the whole time, and sending everything you’ve said to a device I hid on Bella. It’s being stored there for right now. It’s on a dead man’s switch. If I don’t press that button,” he pointed to a red button on the remote, “at least once an hour, it sends everything.”
“That’s a cute threat in an area where there’s no cell phone coverage,” Sanders said.
“You have a Wi-Fi network up,” I pointed out.
“It’s local,” he said. “And how do you know that?”
“Because I used Dave’s phone to download your shared files, and uploaded them to the same device.”
“Which has no connection,” Sanders reminded us. “You’re bluffing.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Niamh said. “They’re called satellites, you asshole. Your pal Elon just put a few thousand of them up.”
“We’re not friends,” Sanders said, sounding defensive.
“Actually this one works with the Iridium satellites,” Kahurangi said. “They’re old and slow, but they’re reliable. And they’ll receive everything in”—he checked his watch—“five minutes.”
Sanders reached down and picked up the remote. “This button?” he asked, pointing to the red disk on the remote. He pressed it. “Bad monologuing,” he said to Kahurangi. “You only reveal your secret after it’s too late.”
Kahurangi smiled. “You don’t think that works without my fingerprint, do you?”
Sanders frowned and looked at the remote. “What?”
“I mean, that’s just basic security right there,” Kahurangi said.
Sanders presented Kahurangi with the remote. “Press it,” he said.
“Or what?” Niamh said. “You’re going to kill him? Mate, you’ve already played that card.”
Sanders turned to Niamh. “How about I have you shot in the gut, so he can hear you scream in agony until he presses the button?”
“Wow, that’s dark,” Niamh said. “Also, fuck you.”
“Have it your way.” Sanders looked up at his lead minion. “Would you, please?”
“Hey, hey,” Kahurangi said. “No gut-shooting anyone. Give me the remote.” He held out his hand. Sanders put the remote into it.
Kahurangi looked at all of us. “So, I guess this is it,” he said.
“I guess it is,” I replied.
“I just want to say that no matter what happens, I’m glad I met each of you,” Kahurangi said. He looked up at Sanders. “Not you,” he clarified. “You can die in a fire. But you, Jamie. You, Aparna. You, Niamh. I’m glad for our friendship.”
“I’m glad for yours,” Aparna said.
“Me, too,” I concurred.
“I didn’t plan to go out with this much mush,” Niamh said. “But yeah. You’re all the best.” They looked up at Sanders. “Again, not you. You are the worst.”
“Just the worst,” Aparna agreed.
“History’s worst monster,” I said.
“I can still have you shot in the gut,” Sanders said. “Like, all of you.”
“Oh, right,” Kahurangi said. He pressed the button, and then tossed the remote back to Sanders. “By the way, I lied.”