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Back The Utopia Experiment Save as PDF
Chapters (84)
  1. Title Page
  2. Welcome
  3. Prologue
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. Epilogue
  81. About the Authors
  82. The Covert-One Novels
  83. Newsletters
  84. Copyright

His phone rang and he pulled it from his jacket again. “Yes? ETA? Okay, I’ll be ready.

“Time for me to go,” he said. “We need to get the chopper in and out of here before the sun comes up. Good luck.”

48

48

Marrakech
Morocco

JON SMITH NARROWLY DODGED a moped coming up behind him and then watched it weaving aggressively through the people packed into the alley. Overhead, tarps had been hung to keep out the sun but seemed more effective at holding in the heat, enveloping him in humidity scented with sweat, urine, and cooking meat. Along the sides of the narrow corridor, shops sold everything from food to clothing to hand-carved doors, supplied by an endless procession of animal-drawn carts.

Despite his dark complexion and hair, Smith had no hope of passing for Moroccan so he’d opted for the baseball hat, camera, and khakis of the inexperienced tourist. Randi, shuffling along behind him, had disappeared into a chador that revealed only her eyes.

This time, they’d traveled by private jet, giving him a chance to get some sleep. Despite that, he still wasn’t fully recovered from the episode in the woods. His ankle had turned out to be much less of a problem than he’d anticipated but his use of Corporal Jeff Miller’s Merge had taken a lasting toll. Network records put his total connect time at a minute thirty-two. It was a record that would undoubtedly stand for a very long time.

He adjusted his sunglasses and pulled the brim of his hat down a bit, searching for people using Merges and finding only one tourist busy negotiating for a set of silver earrings. Dresner’s invention had gone from being a miracle to a threat with amazing speed—something that was more depressing than surprising. How many times had humankind made the mistake of thinking it could control complex technology? Anticipate how it would be used? How it could be subverted.

Was it possible that every Merge on the planet was searching for his face? Hell, had he already been tagged with a GPS coordinate?

Randi pulled ahead and turned down an empty side street with him close behind. Feral cats watched from a high wall as they skirted along it, finally stopping in front of a massive wood-and-copper door.

Star had tracked Eichmann down almost before their jet’s wheels left the ground. He led a private life, but didn’t seem to be making any special effort at anonymity. Who would be interested in an aging psychologist living out his golden years in sunny Morocco?

Randi, instead of immediately going to work on the lock like he was accustomed to, just stood there staring down at it. Smith glanced back at the narrow alley to confirm they were still alone.

“Problem?”

“What the hell am I supposed to do with this?”