The Last Light System

I did not scream. I would like that on record.

I stood in a cloakroom with my hands flat against cold tiles, staring at a glowing blue rectangle floating beside my reflection. Then I did what any sensible woman would do after dying once already.

I whispered, “I’ve gone mad.”

The letters rearranged themselves.

[LAST LIGHT SYSTEM]

NOTICE: HOST IS NOT EXPERIENCING A PSYCHOTIC EPISODE.

STATUS: REBORN.

“Of course I am.” My voice shook. “What are you?”

[SYSTEM INITIALISATION]

SYSTEM NAME: LAST LIGHT

HOST: ODESSA LANE

ORIGIN: A VOW MADE AT THE MOMENT OF DEATH

STATUS: ACTIVE

I stared at the words.

“Explain.”

SYSTEM MESSAGE:

I AM THE LAST LIGHT SYSTEM. YOU MADE A VOW AT THE MOMENT YOU DIED. THE LAST LIGHT HEARD IT. I AM ITS ANSWER.

I thought of the steps, the glass, the pearls.

If I ever got another chance, I would repay every one of them.

I had meant it with everything I had left. It had not occurred to me that anything was listening.

“Prove it,” I said, because I run a logistics company and I do not accept a claim without evidence.

[PREDICTION TEST]

EVENT: THE LANDLINE IN THE HALL WILL RING.

TIME UNTIL EVENT: 00:01:30.

I looked at the clock.

“Fine.”

I counted.

It felt like the longest ninety seconds of my life. At eighty-eight, the landline in the hall rang once, shrill and ordinary.

Dahlia’s voice called out cheerfully, “I’ll get it!”

Then, in a low, urgent tone I had never heard her use, she said, “No, she’s up. She’s fine. She’ll sign.”

My skin went cold all over.

[PREDICTION CONFIRMED]

“All right,” I whispered. “Tell me everything.”

The panel widened. Its blue border brightened, and the information rearranged itself into neat sections.

[HOST PROFILE]

NAME: ODESSA LANE

AGE: 27

STATUS: REBORN

TIMELINE: SECOND LIFE

EXCLUSIVE HOST: CONFIRMED

TIME UNTIL SWITCH-OFF: 90 DAYS

“Only me?” I asked.

CONFIRMED. NO OTHER INDIVIDUAL HAS RETAINED MEMORIES OF THE FIRST TIMELINE.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding.

“Good. Now, what is the Switch-off?”

[WORLD ALERT: PARASOL]

FOR TWELVE YEARS, A NETWORK OF AIRCRAFT CALLED PARASOL HAS SPRAYED REFLECTIVE PARTICLES INTO THE STRATOSPHERE.

THE PARTICLES HAVE HELPED MASK SIX DEGREES OF WARMING.

THE PARTICLES FALL OUT WITHIN TEN WEEKS. CONTINUOUS FLIGHTS ARE REQUIRED TO MAINTAIN THE PROTECTIVE LAYER.

FUNDING STATUS: UNDER THREAT

SCHEDULED FLIGHT TERMINATION: IN 21 DAYS

ESTIMATED TIME UNTIL LAYER FALLS BELOW WORKING LEVEL: 90 DAYS

I gripped the tiles.

“Why would anyone stop the flights?”

CAUSE: DIVERSION OF PARASOL FUNDING.

“To where?”

THE MONEY IS BEING USED TO BUILD A TOWER.

I read the sentence three times.

“Vance Tower.”

CONFIRMED.

PRINCIPAL PARTIES:

* MINISTER ALDOUS PIKE: DIVERTING PARASOL FUNDS.

* PRESTON VANCE: FINANCING AND DEVELOPING VANCE TOWER.

THEY EXPECT A HOT SUMMER. THEY DO NOT EXPECT GLOBAL CLIMATE COLLAPSE. WHEN THE PROTECTIVE LAYER FAILS, THEY INTEND TO SELL PLACES IN THEIR TOWER AND CONTROL ACCESS TO ITS COOLING SYSTEM.

“Preston sells air conditioners,” I said stupidly.

Then I heard myself and understood.

Every unit he sold. Every contract he won. Every place in that tower.

He had not been a man caught in a disaster. He had been a man preparing to profit from it.

[DISASTER FORECAST]

TIME UNTIL PROTECTIVE LAYER FAILURE: 90 DAYS

PROJECTED TEMPERATURE: 47°C BY NOON

EXPECTED ONSET: RAPID

WARNING: EXISTING COOLING INFRASTRUCTURE WILL BE INSUFFICIENT.

“I know,” I said. “I lived it.”

The panel changed.

[FIRST LIFE RECORD]

HOST: ODESSA LANE

CAUSE OF DEATH: HEATSTROKE

TIME: HEAT DAY 61, 14:12

LOCATION: STEPS OF VANCE TOWER

TOWER DOOR ACCESS: DENIED.

PERSONS WHO ATTEMPTED TO GET HOST INSIDE: ONE.

Something in my chest went tight.

A photograph appeared beneath the record.

A man stood beside a generator in a grey work jacket, not smiling, with a scar through his left eyebrow and a gaze that looked straight through the camera.

It was the face I had looked up into on the steps.

Alive.

[INDIVIDUAL PROFILE]

NAME: RAFE MADDOX

AGE: 34

OCCUPATION: FOUNDER, MADDOX GROUP

STATUS: ALIVE

TIMELINE: SECOND LIFE

I made a sound I did not recognise.

“He’s alive?”

IN THIS TIMELINE, YES.

I touched the panel without thinking. My fingertip passed straight through, and the picture rippled before settling again.

I realised I had been looking at him for much longer than the situation called for. At his stubborn jaw, his tired eyes, the grease on his knuckles.

“Why did he try?” I asked quietly. “He didn’t know me.”

HE HAD NEVER MET YOU.

“Then why?”

THAT IS A QUESTION FOR HIM.

I looked away from the photograph.

There were bigger things to worry about. Much bigger.

The clock in the corner of the panel continued counting down.

TIME UNTIL SIGNATURE DEADLINE: 02:31:12.

“The guarantee,” I said slowly. “Preston needs my signature to finish the Tower.”

[FINANCIAL ALERT]

REQUIRED ADDITIONAL FINANCING: £40,000,000

PROPOSED GUARANTOR: ODESSA LANE

DOCUMENT: SECOND TRANCHE LOAN GUARANTEE

THE INITIAL £10,000,000 HAS ALREADY BEEN RELEASED. THE ADDITIONAL £40,000,000 IS REQUIRED TO COMPLETE THE TOWER.

WITHOUT YOUR GUARANTEE, THE FINANCING WILL FAIL. PIKE AND VANCE WILL BE FORCED TO SEEK THE REMAINING MONEY FROM PARASOL’S LAST RESERVE.

“So I’m the one thing they can’t do without.”

CORRECTION: YOU ARE THE ONE THING THEY CANNOT DO WITHOUT.

I will admit that it felt like the first warm thing I had felt since the bathroom floor.

Everything that had happened to me had happened because I had said yes.

I had signed documents without reading the fine print. I had trusted Preston when he told me the Tower was a business investment. I had handed him access to my company, my money and eventually my life.

It had never once occurred to me that I could say no.

The panel shifted again.

[MISSION PANEL]

MAIN MISSION 001: REFUSE THE TOWER GUARANTEE

OBJECTIVE:

Do not sign the £40,000,000 loan guarantee.

DEADLINE: 10:00 A.M. TODAY

REWARD: £50,000

STATUS: IN PROGRESS

“Fifty thousand pounds?”

CONFIRMED.

“Where does the money come from?”

REWARDS ARE SYSTEM-GENERATED. THEY WILL BE CREDITED TO THE HOST’S DESIGNATED ACCOUNT UPON MISSION COMPLETION.

I stared at it.

“And if I fail?”

MISSION FAILURE WILL RESULT IN NO REWARD.

“That’s all?”

ADDITIONAL PENALTIES ARE NOT APPLICABLE TO THIS MISSION.

I narrowed my eyes. “You’re very generous.”

THE SYSTEM DOES NOT GUARANTEE FUTURE GENEROSITY.

A new section appeared.

[LOCKED FUNCTIONS]

* LAST LIGHT VAULT: LOCKED. ACTIVATES AT SWITCH-OFF.

* TRUST SCORE: LOCKED. ACTIVATES AT SWITCH-OFF.

* SEED DOUBLING: AVAILABLE. ONE-TIME USE.

* FORECAST: AVAILABLE. ACCURACY DEPENDS ON TIMELINE CONSISTENCY.

NOTICE: LARGER SURVIVAL FUNCTIONS WILL ACTIVATE WHEN THE FIRST HEAT ARRIVES.

I read the list twice.

“What exactly is the Forecast?”

THE SYSTEM WILL PROVIDE INFORMATION ABOUT FUTURE EVENTS BASED ON THE FIRST TIMELINE. EVENTS MAY CHANGE WHEN HOST ACTIONS ALTER THEIR CAUSES.

“So you can be wrong?”

THE FUTURE IS NOT FIXED.

That was the first answer it had given me that I actually liked.

“And the missions?”

FUTURE MISSIONS WILL BE DISPLAYED WHEN AVAILABLE.

I glanced back at Rafe’s photograph, still sitting beneath the First Life Record.

“And him?”

The panel flickered.

[MISSION PREVIEW: 004]

SUBJECT: RAFE MADDOX

STATUS: LOCKED

OBJECTIVE: UNAVAILABLE

REWARD: UNAVAILABLE

I frowned.

“Why is he a mission?”

THE ORDER IS NOT NEGOTIABLE.

“You’re very annoying.”

THE SYSTEM DOES NOT TAKE FEEDBACK.

The panel dimmed, shrinking into a small blue square in the corner of the mirror.

I stood there, ninety days from the end of the world, looking at the face of a man who had died for me before I knew his name.

Then the cloakroom door handle turned.

“Dess?” Preston’s voice came through, warm and sleepy, on the other side. “There you are. Wear the blue suit today, babe. It’s a big day.”

I looked at my reflection.

She looked back, calm and composed and quite terrifying.

“Of course,” I called, in a voice I did not recognise. “The blue one.”