The Voodoo Project

By Kristine Kathryn Rusch

Rebekah uses her Sight to fight for good. She works for the Voodoo Project, although her work involves psy ops, not voodoo. She fears retirement and a normal life. So she keeps working, going on missions, never knowing when she will face her last mission...

Because she can see anyone’s future—except her own.

“The climax, when it comes, is clever and satisfying…this paranoid, edgy piece …dances into Orwell territory”—Tangent Online

“A short, hard punch.”—Locus

• Language: English
• Publisher: WMG Publishing
• Release date: Mar 5, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386383772

Kristine Kathryn Rusch

New York Times bestselling author Kristine Kathryn Rusch writes in almost every genre. Generally, she uses her real name (Rusch) for most of her writing. She publishes bestselling science fiction and fantasy, award-winning mysteries, acclaimed mainstream fiction, controversial nonfiction, and the occasional romance. Her novels have made bestseller lists around the world and her short fiction has appeared in eighteen best of the year collections. She has won more than twenty-five awards for her fiction, including the Hugo, Le Prix Imaginales, the Asimov's Readers Choice award, and the Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine Readers Choice Award.   

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The Voodoo Project

The Voodoo Project

Kristine Kathryn Rusch

WMG Publishing Inc.

Contents

The Voodoo Project

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About the Author

The Voodoo Project

Forty-five years old, prime of her life, height of her career. Maybe the best moment of her career, although Rebekah Zahedi knows—everyone knows—her career can end in a nanosecond. One false move, one miscalculation, one sleeper, and she’s done.

This time, the Company has sent her to Paris. Usually Rebekah loves Paris. Laws, voted in honor of the hundredth anniversary of the defeat of the Nazis, guarantee that city’s center will not lose its historic value. Fire? Fine, but the new building must look Belle Epoch at the newest. Height limits, design limits, all focus on the first seven arrondissements, preventing miscalculations like the pyramid in front of the Louvre, built before these regulations came into play.

But the outskirts of Paris have no such rules and that is where she’s going, a black-and-silver wedge high-rise, state-of-the-art forty years ago, ridiculous now, like a triangle out of a tactile infant’s game. Ridiculous in look, perhaps, but not in intent: the last time she went to one of wedge high-rises, it shattered as she left—glass and tile everywhere.

She survived because she felt the wave, matched the image with an image she had Seen six months before, and dove down the stairs of an ancient Metro station. Cut, bruised, shaken, but alive.

The attack hadn’t been aimed at her. The building had been a safe house, and someone had blown its cover. It hadn’t been her job to figure out who had revealed the location; she’d stopped doing that kind of interrogation years ago. Still, that kind of interrogation had left her paranoid, the blast had left her jumpy, and no amount of intervention—nano, chemical, neural—worked.

The handlers who had recruited her out of an eighth-grade science competition had warned her that eventually the emotions would crowd out the skills. The handlers had warned her parents as well, but the promise of money, of a free education,