Tomorrow Land Read Online Free Page A

have you been? You’re late. And you know how I feel about tardiness.” Ian Anderson raked his hands through his graying hair and scowled as his daughter entered the basement where he had set up their training center. There were two punching bags—one heavy and one speed bag—a weight bench, a treadmill, and some jump ropes. It was all last-century tech, like everything else in their house. Except her dad’s lab. Beyond the gym, a locked door held more equipment than most government research facilities, all illegally firewalled and creatively routed to avoid unwanted scrutiny. All totally off-limits to Peyton.
    “Sorry, Dad,” she apologized, setting down her bag and grabbing some workout clothes. She stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. “I got tied up.”
    “Tied up?” he repeated through the wall. “You wouldn’t happen to be using those sims again, would you? With your friend Avery? You know how I feel about them.”
    “They’re just games, Dad.”
    “They’re all connected up, linked to the system. Meaning, everything you say in there is monitored by Homeland Security—or worse. We don’t need any trouble with the feds.”
    Peyton sighed as she pulled a tank top over her head. “Dad, we’re in there chatting about boys and clothes. I hardly think the government is interested.”
    “It’s always better to err on the side of safety,” came the reply as she pulled on her shorts and leaned over to lace her sneakers. “Besides, if nothing else, they’re also a terrific waste of time. Especially when they start interfering with your training. We’ve got a lot to get through and not a lot of time. We need your body strong and fit.”
    “I know, I know.” Peyton opened the door. “Because the end of the world is near.”
    Her dad handed her a set of boxing gloves. “Go ahead and laugh,” he said, nodding serenely. “Everyone does. But you will all see for yourselves soon enough.”
    Oh Dad. Peyton donned the gloves. It was pointless to argue with him when he got on this track. He didn’t care that the rest of the world thought he was crazy; he believed what he believed. And, at the end of the day, she had to give him some props for that. Even if it was a big pain in the ass to be his daughter sometimes.
    Of course, things weren’t always like this. Back in the day, her dad had been a big time medical researcher/scientist, under contract by the government to build special cybernetic implants that would enhance the combat capabilities of human soldiers. The implants had made them stronger, faster, and better at killing. Which they’d proceeded to do for three years, unfortunately.
    Deployed by UN to sweep into conflicted territories and murder men, women, and children without effort or remorse, they’d killed and killed and killed until finally those opposing governments waved their white flags and gave in to all demands. They’d been used in the Middle East and Africa, mostly. Wherever they went, things changed. Mission accomplished.
    Not exactly what Ian Anderson had had in mind when he first created his super soldiers. And when he learned of the genocide missions and other atrocities, he quit his job and joined a radical militia group, rallying against the government for which he’d once worked. Breaking into his former labs, he’d destroyed all of the prototypes and plans and then set fire to the building itself in order to ensure these creatures could never be built again.
    “What had he expected?” one prosecutor had asked at his trial, as well as a number of newspaper reporters. What had he thought would be the purpose of his super-powered soldiers? He hadn’t answered, but Peyton knew that her father had expected his creations to protect people. He’d been trying to help, and the government had turned his inventions against him. He still muttered about it while he was working.
    His years in prison hadn’t helped his anger, either. Peyton was embarrassed to