‘British are always trying to be polite,’ Pete says, glancing at James to see him eating a cucumber sandwich taken from a platter.
‘Is it okay to eat now?’ he asks, a rabbit caught in headlights.
‘Sure,’ Pete says kindly, ‘eat James.’
‘Training for what?’ Zara asks again.
‘I’d like to know too,’ Thomas says, stepping closer to Zara and even adopting her stance of folded arms.
‘Loyal,’ Pete says, pointing at Thomas. ‘Jacob said you are very loyal, Thomas. Loyalty is a great virtue in our world.’
‘What world?’ Zara asks pointedly.
‘You though,’ Pete says, pointing his pastry at Bear. ‘I do not yet know what you are, Monsieur.’
‘What world?’ Zara snaps.
‘Persistence,’ Pete grins.
‘Irritated, more like. Confused. Angry. Weirded out…and I just threw up.’
‘Nags too,’ the Frenchman says with a mock grumble.
‘Pete!’ Zara snaps.
‘Okay, okay,’ he says quickly, ‘we go slow to make it easier.’
‘Spit it out,’ she insists. ‘What? Make what easier?’
‘James, you’ll need to stand up now,’ Jacob says, motioning the big man to come closer. ‘Pete? Ready?’
‘Oui oui, I am ready,’ Pete says, rising from his chair to move closer to everyone else.
‘Listen closely to the end,’ Jacob says as the world changes.
A grand building stands majestic in front of them. Young adults walk briskly with armfuls of books while masters in black robes cycle or walk past. A place of learning, a centre of education. A road in front of them running left to right and they spot the young woman with red hair running from the entrance to the building. She looks happy and full of life. Grinning broadly with her books in her arms. The other students know her and call out. She reaches the road, turning to acknowledge someone and the impact is brutal when the car smashes into her legs, launching her across the bonnet and into the windscreen. The car brakes sharply, sending her flying across the road and coming to stop in a growing pool of blood with her neck very clearly broken.
Zara gasps at the shock of it. Thomas flinches, turning his head sharply away while James sways as though ready to puke again.
It’s shocking to Bear too, but not in the same horrified and appalled way, more of a natural instinct to flinch at the sight of a human form suffering such instant trauma in that way. He also recognises the scenario from the example Roshi told him.
‘That young lady is a very promising student,’ Jacob says while the students and masters scream out in shock as they run towards her body. ‘Or rather, she was,’ he adds sadly. ‘We shall never know her true potential…what she could have achieved…what she could have become.’
‘What if?’ Pete says gently. ‘What if this young lady did not die?’
‘Oh, my god,’ Zara says as the whole scene freezes for a second before everyone starts moving backward in rewind. The corpse animates, sliding across the road and defying gravity to lift up through the air into the front windscreen of the car then down across the bonnet and back onto the road then to walking backwards on the pavement towards the front of the building. Then it pauses again with everything frozen.
‘What if?’ Pete whispers.
The world comes back to life with the red-haired young woman running down the path, calling out to the people she knows. She reaches the kerb, turning to acknowledge someone when an arm shoots out, stopping her from running out. She turns in alarm, staring into the face of a man with dark greying hair as the car goes past.
‘My god…thank you,’ she says in alarm.
‘You are most welcome,’ the charming man holding her arm says in a thick French accent before walking on.
‘That’s you?’ Zara asks, looking at Pete.
The scene changes to the red-haired woman sitting in a big silent room full of people taking exams at desks. Another change to a graduation ceremony and the same woman shaking hands with an old man on a stage to a round of applause. Another change to the red-haired woman studying in a laboratory but she’s older now and her eyes have wisdom. Another change to the same woman at a desk surrounded by piles of papers and books. She looks up with an exaggerated lightbulb moment of profound shock.
‘She just discovered the cure for a tropical disease that kills over ten million people each year,’ Jacob says softly.
Another change to a hospital ward crammed with beds full of malnourished, emaciated people. Africa somewhere. Hot with insects buzzing and nurses in white with masks over their faces rushing between the beds.
‘And six months later…’ Jacob says.
The same room but filled with a fraction of the beds. The walls clean, the nurses now without masks, the patients in plaster casts and splints with injuries instead of disease.
‘One might think it is impossible to predict the future,’ Jacob says quietly.
‘But the Old Lady is from the future…where the human species is extinct,’ Pete says.
‘And she is determined to stop that from happening,’ Jacob adds.
‘It wasn’t one single thing that caused it but many,’ Pete says, picking the thread up with a well-rehearsed back and forth between the two men. ‘Not one single person but many. All of our lives are entwined…’
‘Six degrees of separation,’ Zara says quietly.
‘Yes,’ Pete says. ‘Billions of lives all connected. Tens of billions. Hundreds. It is not a thing a human mind can process but an AI? Oui, an AI can see these things. She picks the threads apart and tells us what to tweak…so, we travel in time in the real world and we tweak and we change.’ Pete finishes to a slack jawed Zara and Thomas both stunned to the core.
‘Planning offices?’ Jacob asks Pete.
‘Oui, I think so,’ Pete claps his hands, changing the world about them to a small empty room with a door at either end. ‘This is room seven…come,’ he walks to one of the doors, turning the handle that squeaks noisily as he swings the door in and steps out into a corridor lined with doors that feeds into a big open plan office filled with people. A T junction at the other end with a door marked Operatives prep room. They file after him, all of them gathering to look round.
‘This is the planning offices,’ Jacob explains, walking up the corridor. ‘The numbered rooms are where we deploy from Discovery to the real world…’ they walk behind him, seeing each door is numbered from seven down to one. ‘Each set of operatives work under a handler, they have their own offices along that side and this, this is the main office…everyone! Can I have your attention please…’ he claps his hands, bringing the big open plan office to a sudden hushed quiet as people working at computer terminals and bent over folders at desks all stop to look over. ‘New arrivals,’ Jacob calls out. ‘Zara, Thomas, James and Bear…’
Bear hears his name whispered a few times. Roshi’s name too with knowing nods and rolls of eyes.
‘Ah, Martha,’ Pete says as a tall austere woman steps from a private office at the rear. ‘Martha is the operations manager; she is the boss yes?’
‘Nice to meet you,’ Martha says curtly, ‘everyone back to work, we’re still behind.’
Jacob and Pete lead the four back down to room seven, taking them in one door to cross the room and through the next that takes them into an art deco hotel lobby, sumptuous and retro with a polished marble floor that Bear once laid on with Roshi on his chest and he cannot help the grin that spreads when he spots the stunning woman holding the cigarette in the long black stick. James, Zara and Thomas blink heavily, the shock still etched on their faces as they look round.
‘This is another training construct,’ Jacob says. ‘Now listen carefully…’
The scenarios play out the same as before, with explanations given by Pete and Jacob as they gently lead Zara, Thomas and James through the same thing Roshi told Bear, but they go slowly, spelling it out over and again. Explaining the same thing so it
sinks in, but Bear finds himself drifting off to think about last night.
‘Questions?’ Jacob finally asks.
‘Er just a few,’ Zara states. ‘You’re telling me we exist in a computer-generated world while our actual real bodies might or might not be somewhere, but we can go into the real world to do real things to change time for an AI system to see if it will stop everyone dying. Is that right?’
The two older men exchange a glance, nodding at each other then back to Zara.
‘Yes,’ they say together.
‘Fuck off!’ Zara says in disbelief.
‘That don’t make any sense,’ Thomas says, rubbing his jaw. ‘How?’
Pete shrugs, pulling a face in reply.
‘There is no how,’ Zara says, waving a dismissive hand at both of them. ‘It’s not possible.’
‘Why?’ Pete asks.
‘Why?’ she fires back. ‘It defies the laws of…of physics and chemistry and biology and…and every law of nature…and the process of organic material…and…and just about everything. Do you think we’re idiots? I’m not an idiot.’
‘To be perfectly frank,’ Jacob says, cutting into the conversation with a hard voice. ‘It is not our job to convince you one way or the other.’
A chilling bluntness to his manner robs the venom from Zara’s expression, making all of them fall silent as he continues.
Pete sighs heavily. Good cop, bad cop and he takes his turn. ‘You are not children. It is best these things are said straight. The Old Lady says what she wants, the planning office give the jobs to a handler who guides their operatives. I am an operative. Jacob is too, and Larry…’ he adds with a nod to James.
‘Is Roshi a real-world operative?’ Bear asks.
‘She is’ Jacob says coldly. ‘But do not think for one second that you have an affinity to that woman. Roshi holds no allegiance to anyone other than herself.’
‘Jacob,’ Pete says quietly as though warning him to stop.
‘Roshi is reckless and dangerous. She has reluctantly performed her duty in the circuit, and it is highly unlikely, and wholly to yours and everyone else’s benefit, that you will ever see her.’ He stares hard at Bear, invasively studying for reaction.
Pete sighs again, a master of using body language and verbalised noises to imply mood and emotion and without uttering a word, he conveys a great sadness at this awful truth.
‘Indeed,’ Jacob says darkly. ‘Pete and I are operatives. As such, we do not have a great deal of time to spare with you so we will make haste through the remainder of this initial assessment after which you will be able to complete orientation and find a suitable role within the town.’
‘Just,’ Zara says, holding a hand up then rubbing her forehead quickly. ‘Just slow down a bit?’
‘Oh, I am terribly sorry, young lady. Please allow me to slow the world down and all that is in it so you can comprehend the simple facts I have given you…’
‘Jesus,’ Zara whispers.
‘We only just got here, dude,’ Thomas says.
‘Times are hard. The things we do are becoming increasingly dangerous. We do not have time to molly coddle you. You are here to be assessed. After which you will be assigned a role within the town. Understood? Good. Glad we got that clear.’
‘It’s not clear,’ Zara says. ‘It’s not clear at all.’
‘Great stuff!’ Jacob booms. ‘Pete?’
‘Oui,’ the other man says sadly, deeply, rubbing a hand over his jaw as he offers a shrug. He goes to speak then pauses, thinking of what to say. ‘Good luck,’ he adds simply, walking off with Jacob.
‘Where are you going?’ Zara asks.
‘Remember,’ Pete calls back, turning as he walks to the doors. ‘It is not real…it is a test.’
‘What is?’ Zara asks as the lights go out.
12
‘I can’t see…’ James whimpers in the darkness.
A scent in the air. A tang. A uniqueness of smell of oil and grease. ‘Stage two,’ Bear mutters.
The lights come on. Sudden, harsh and making them all cover their eyes.
‘What the fuck?’ Zara reels back, lowering her arm to stare round at the huge warehouse. Walls streaked with grime. The floor pitted and broken. ‘Bear!’ she shouts at seeing him run off.
‘I know this…I did it with Roshi,’ he reaches the pillar, circumventing to the other side to see the same little girl sat on the floor with wires tied about her body leading to the box on the floor.
‘I want to go,’ the girl sobs.
‘What is it?’ Thomas asks, jogging over. ‘What the…a kid?…she’s a kid…’
‘It’s a bomb,’ Bear says, scooting to grip the wires running behind her to the box. He flips the lid, showing them the numbered clips then pointing at the timer and frowning at the numbers flashing red.
9:01. 9:00. 8:59.
‘Bitch,’ he mutters, ‘she only gave me five minutes…’
‘Hey, sweetie,’ Thomas says softly, ‘don’t cry, it’ll be okay…’
‘She’s not real,’ Bear says.
‘This is sick,’ Zara says. ‘Who are these people?’
‘She looks damn real to me,’ Thomas mutters darkly.
‘Like the people in the tea rooms,’ Bear says, ‘like them…she’s not real…there’s another dozen in that room down there but…’
‘What?’ Zara snaps, spinning round to see the door at the far end.
‘Down there,’ Bear says. ‘I had five minutes to disarm both bombs, but it couldn’t be done…even if the wires are pulled out they still explode. Roshi said it’s flawed…like a fake test. The bombs explode when it hits zero then I reset…’
‘Reset?’ Zara asks. ‘Back to life you mean?’
‘Yeah, like the circuit,’ Bear says, looking from her to Thomas still trying to offer comfort to the child. A gag behind them, a wretch and they turn to see James bent double heaving his guts up once again.
‘Okay,’ Zara says, putting her hands on her hips to draw a sharp intake of breath. ‘Two bombs, right? Show me how they disarm.’
‘They don’t disarm but you can get the wires free…the numbers on the lid…see? They match the clips; I think you have to pull the wires out in sequence but even if we did both there’s nowhere to go…’
‘Bear, promise us this isn’t real,’ Zara says.
‘It’s not real,’ he says honestly. ‘I did it with Roshi…they reset each time.’
She looks back to Thomas, seeing him nod wan and weak but showing he understands.
‘You do that one, Thomas…we’ll get through it. Okay?’ she says.
‘Man, this is some fucked up shit,’ Thomas grumbles to himself, dropping to his knees with the box.
‘I want my mummy…’
‘You’re not real…’ Thomas tells himself. ‘Not real…’
Bear and Zara run the length of the room, reaching the door to wrench it back on the squeaking rollers as Pete and Jacob watch from the gantry overhead hidden in the shadows. A look between them that shows Jacob’s distaste at Roshi’s cheating.
Zara gasps, seeing the dozen children sitting on the filthy broken floor all tied with wires leading to another box. A timer on the central pillar.
She runs to the box, flipping the lid to see the wires inside and the numbers then looks through the open door to Thomas on his knees working on the box with frequent glances up at the timer above his head.
‘Let me,’ Bear says, taking the box from her hands. ‘Tell Thomas to snap them out…there isn’t time to unscrew them.’
She runs to Thomas, showing him the way Bear was doing it. ‘Like this…snap them out.’ She sprints over to James bent double on the ground groaning to himself. ‘Up,’ she grabs his arm, pulling hard. ‘James, get up…we need you.’
‘Feel sick,’ he moans.
‘We all do, get up…JAMES GET UP!’
He rises slowly, ponderously then yelps as Zara yanks him on, dragging him across the warehouse towar
ds the door.
‘How’s it going?’ Zara asks, pulling James into the room who stares aghast at the children and steps back as though ready to flee in horror.
‘Won’t make it,’ Bear says, glancing up at the timer.
‘Will the wires come off?’ she asks, moving to the closest child to grip and pull at the wires wrapped round his body.
‘Tried it, doesn’t work,’ Bear replies. ‘Have to pull them from the box when they’re all free…I never got these out. Just the girl with Thomas…’
She frowns at his back. ‘How many times did you die, Bear?’
He shrugs and works on. ‘Lost count.’
She blinks at the answer, widening her eyes and snatching a glance to James now pale, drawn and trembling from head to toe.
‘Doesn’t hurt right?’ she asks.
‘What? Dying? You know it does.’
‘But bombs, right? Quick, yeah?’
‘Guess so,’ he snaps a wire, checks the sequence and keeps going. ‘Not as bad as the blokes with sticks or that bloody axe…or the knife…or being shot in the guts or the poisoned arrows or…’
‘I er…’ she says slowly, looking again to an even more horrified James. ‘I don’t think we did the same thing as you, Bear.’
‘Done it!’ he snaps the final wire free, yanking the clutch from the box. ‘Help me…’ he shouts, rushing to the nearest child to wrench the wires away.
‘James,’ Zara says, lifting the child to carry over towards the big man. ‘Hold him…’
‘What? I can’t…’
‘You have to…TAKE HIM…Tom? How are you doing?’
‘TOO MANY…I CAN’T DO IT…’
‘Okay,’ she thinks fast, looking at the box, at the sticks of explosive, at the kids, at James, at the rooms, the distance. ‘We’ll reset, right?’ Bear! We’ll reset, right?’
‘Yes.’
‘You promise.
‘I promise.’
‘Please, no, please, no….’ James begs, his legs giving out as he sinks down with the kids to lie crumpled on the ground.
Zara pushes her hands through her hair, her face morphing with abject worry as Bear glances at the timer, shrugs and stands up to stretch.
A Town Called Discovery Page 12
