Recalling Destiny

by Michael Blinkhoff

  “Abort mission Three, focus all resources on acquisition of primary target.”

  A pause on the other end, followed by a crackle, “Understood Ma’am, Ops out.” the receiver went dead.

  Ma’am turned to her Number Two, “Get me ... actually better yet, Thomas!” she yelled aloud in the room.

  The balding man in the corner with the large glasses, who up until now had been an observer, looked up at the mention of his name, “uh huh?”

  “Ma’am!” she scolded.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You can address me as Ma’am.”

  Thomas shook his head, as if waking from a slumber, “Yes … Ma’am, sorry … Ma’am.”

  “Thomas, relay to your people that we were unable to locate your target Han Solo. Our information has him located somewhere at Hyde Park, suggest they deploy a search team as our field operations team are otherwise incapacitated. Do not tell them that we were unable find the target, only relay his location. Suggest they take over from there, understood?”

  “Ah, what do you mean …”

  “Understood!” she cut him off.

  “Yes Ma’am.”

  “And don’t you be telling no tales alright! I’ve already warned you about what you report back to your bosses. Keep it simple just like I said, or you’ll get my boot up your arse.”

  “Yes Ma’am, sorry Ma’am.”

  “I’m going to the bathroom.” she called out so enough people could hear her.

  Ma’am had taken a moment to leave the floor and refresh herself. She stood now in the staff bathrooms with her hands placed firmly on the bathroom bench staring herself intently in the eye. The gravity of the situation was starting to dawn on her, she needed a moment to look herself in the eye and tell herself that she could…. WOULD, do this.

  You are so close now Lucinda. Bring her back!

  She felt so tired, especially of late. She removed the Bluetooth headset from her head and started to massage her eyes and temples.

  For a long time now she’d been avoiding the subject that’d suddenly become so important. She spent hours over the last few years poring over thread lines and never finding anything suggesting the girl was in any danger in Africa.

  Ma’am suspected foul play may have been at hand, but how on earth could she prove it when she was still trying to save her. In her last meeting with Samuel he had eluded to who he thought was the culprit.

  Samuel was probably right, Thomas was most likely passing information back to the government. But there was little she could do about it, his presence here was a requirement. She wished she could use the thread to take him out, but that would only make things worse.

  Regardless of what’d happened and what was going to happen, she still prevented it from happening and was now running point on the new thread. She splashed some water in her face and rubbed it in, pulled a fresh towel and dried her face, all the while still looking herself in the eye.

  Get her back Lucinda, and get her safe.

  “Number Two?” Ma’am called out as she returned to the floor.

  “Ma’am?”

  “You have the floor.”

  “Yes Ma’am.”

  She left the operations room and, just as she had the night before, took off the in direction of the old log shed, entering the broken outhouse and disappearing into its depths.

  “Seven?” she called out as she hit the bottom stair of the mezzanine. “Peter Friendly’s file please.”

  A jerk in the chair, a reaction from Station Seven and moments later a series of images popped up on the main screens, additionally, a written list of accomplishments flared across the bottom of the screen. Grew up in parent’s farm in local indigenous community, junior boys boarding school, college, worked for numerous charities. It moved on to later entries showing he was dismissed from Greenpeace.

  All the files you could want on a person. Ever.

  Ma’am read the details on the screen as she came down the stairs and called out another command, “close file Seven. Eight? Can you bring up his thread line please on main view.”

  “Acquiring,” came the reply from Marion’s junior assistant.

  This was not the first time the team had been asked to look over the subject Peter Friendly and so it took only moments to acquire his signal.

  “Ma’am?” Marion called out once her assistant had found the thread.

  “Eight?”

  “Ma’am, thread line for Peter Friendly now active on the main screen.”

  What appeared on the main screen, to the naked eye, could only be discerned as something that would baffle the greatest of minds. It could’ve been a net, or a tangled spider’s web or a cotton ball stretched out at a thousand different, unpredictable angles and then shaped into different colours and moulds.

  It could’ve been a series of inter-tangled roots that had been dyed red and then mingled with a million other colours to create this giant kaleidoscope of lines and colours and shapes. It was displayed on the screen now mainly in red, though many other colours were apparent as you observed it more closely.

  The thread.

  This was the digital representation of the thread line, the very thing Destiny was here for. Every human has a thread line, and Destiny had access to it. And though complicated it may have looked as it was now, further inspection of the small lines, once enhanced, showed there was more depth.

  It would be like looking at a slide of the Milky Way Galaxy, knowing that if you zoomed in, more details would become apparent. If you zoomed again you would find more, a solar system here and a planet there, it was massive. The thread was the same, zoom in and you could read into the memory of life.

  Here now on the screen was the thread of Peter Friendly and Destiny was looking deep into his Milky Way to find anything they could use to manipulate the future. Ma’am moved over to Station Eight and was looking through the thread line when an alert buzzed in the room.

  “Number Two?”

  “Hold on Ma’am …” came the reply from the man upstairs. “Ma’am, it would seem we have re-acquired the secondary target.”

  “What?”

  “Whoa …” Marion blurted out, “… and he’s certainly moved considerably from his last location!”

  “How far?” Ma’am asked as Marion brought up the details on her screen.

  “Nearly to the border!”

  “Excuse me! What border?”

  “Nearing Albury, he’s crossing into Victoria.”

  “Jesus!” she blurted out. “How the hell did he do that? How the hell did he get so far away?”

  “I can back track and find out for you, might take a while though.”

  “No, we have him, that’s good enough for now.”

  “We have a cell phone trace for now, what would you like to do?” came the call from her number two via her headset.

  “Get him!” she slapped her hands together. “Three, this is Ma’am, come in.”

  Silence for a few moments, then a reply. “Go ahead Ma’am.” Okko’s voice sounded.

  “Ops, your target has been reacquired. Where is your team?”

  “We’re about to go on the primary target Ma’am.”

  “Bugger it.”

  Ma’am pondered the situation for a moment. She’d already given up on the chase of the kid, Han Solo, and passed it into the government’s hands, even hoping to placate them somewhat by feigning cooperation.

  Getting involved with the government was a very delicate business, they knew of Destiny but by the same regard they didn’t know about Destiny. So getting involved in anything co-operative always put the facility at a potential risk. It was one issue that Samuel had always been persistent in drumming into her, “keep them at arm’s length, where we can control them. See them, yet keep them away from us.”

 
“Ma’am, orders?” Okko sounded through her headset, awaiting a reply.

  She now had the kid as well as the primary target on her hands, she needed to think quickly so as to avoid any complications.

  “Ma’am?” Marion called out.

  “What?”

  “Signal has disappeared again.”

  “Who?”

  “The Han Solo kid, the phone trace just disappeared.”

  “Crabsticks!”

  “Huh?” Mr Okko overheard her.

  “We just lost the signal Ops ...”

  “Yeah? What you want me to do Ma’am?” Okko called back.

  “Ops, standby ...” Ma’am was stalling and she knew it. Perhaps it was recent events which caused her to doubt herself momentarily, she tapped on the desk furiously.

  “Standing by, Ma’am.”

  Giving chase on the kid would mean involving a helicopter, there was no other way to get there as quickly. She thought it over in her head for a moment and considered the implications of her decision before keying her headset again. The kid was a danger to them, he’d already hacked their server’s upstairs, she didn’t want him getting any deeper. Added to that Samuel was intent on him as well.

  “Ops?”

  “Yes Ma’am?”

  “You are to re-acquire the secondary target, send out a unit in pursuit.”

  “Only one Ma’am?”

  “Can’t risk discovery from government, Ops. One unit only, police uniform. Unit is at your discretion. Utilise the field air resource to close the gap between them, I will arrange for a vehicle on the ground for an intercept and confirm with you ASAP.”

  “Understood. Parameters for target Ma’am?” he replied.

  Again silence from Ma’am as she contemplated the question.

  “Ma’am? Catch or kill Ma’am?” he said in an almost cavalier tone.

  “Ops, your orders are to terminate the target.”

  “Understood Ma’am.”

  “Jesus woman!” Marion scolded her, overhearing the exchange.

  “Mind your place, Eight!” she responded, emphasising the number at the end of her sentence.

  “That boy has done nothing wrong except to do what he believes in.”

  “What would you have me do? He’s going to expose this facility.”

  “Hmmm, he doesn’t even know about us.”

  “Yes he does, he’s working with Suni.”

  “Well so what, why don’t you try and bring the bloody kid here instead. Try and get him to use that brain to do some good around here, god knows I could use the help with his technology expertise.”

  “You have an assistant.”

  “I do, but she’s not interested in all this stuff like I am.”

  “I don’t care if she’s interested, it’s her job.”

  “Lucinda?”

  “Marion?”

  “What?”

  “The answer is no.” she keyed her headset again and was about to speak when Marion again objected.

  “Please, Lucinda. I know Samuel has you all wound up about him, but please, stop the killing. This is not who you are, you don’t have to be like this.”

  She hesitated, for the first time in a long time. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep or maybe Marion had finally worn her down. She paused momentarily, unsure of herself, “Ops …”

  “Ops here. Standing by Ma’am.” Mr Okko’s voice sounded.

  But no reply came from Destiny command.

  “Ma’am? Do you copy over?”

  “Copy Ops.

  “Orders Ma’am?”

  “Terminate Ops, your orders are to terminate.”

  Marion waved her hands in the air in response, but didn’t object any further.

  “Understood Ma’am.”

  “Ops, are we a go for primary target?”

  “Team in place now Ma’am. Two units at the front and three units covering exits to the building, we cannot acquire Friendly’s phone signal, but we know they’re in the apartment.”

  “Standing by Ops, your mission is a go, get the girl and get out.”

  “Copy.”

  Ma’am turned her attention to the main screen now, even taking the time to grab a chair and sit down, a rare event for her. Several images were being utilised that showed the scene around Peter Friendly’s apartment, they sent units in and were about to enter.

  Just as the Destiny men were about to execute though, an order came through the radio channel from Number Two, “Ops delay, delay immediately.”

  “What the … ?” Ma’am stood up. “Number Eight?”

  “All units halt!” came the call from Number Two.

  “Eight!” she screamed again. “What happened to the thread?”

  “Abort, abort!” came the call again.

  Ma’am was about to object when she noticed on screen a plethora of blue and white cars come into view around the apartment complex.

  The police had arrived outside Peter Friendly’s apartment complex.

  “Ma’am?” Okko questioned.

  “Bugger it!” she cursed. “Ops, abort mission, I say again abort mission. Observation only at this point, we have local police arriving on the scene.”

  “We’re right here dammit!”

  She could hear cursing down the other end of the line, but she didn’t care, her plans had been foiled again. Despite all the best technology in the world, she couldn’t seem to protect the girl. She could literally control Destiny but whatever fate had in store for her it was going to happen and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.

  - -

  Harrison

  “We’ve been driving for almost six hours now, aren’t you even interested in where I’m taking you?” Harrison asks, leaning back and slumping himself in his car seat.

  “Melbourne.” Smith replies, face set forward, hands on the wheel.

  “No, I mean, don’t you wanna know why exactly?”

  “Ask help, give help.”

  “Yeah man, I just thought you might’ve been a little more interested as to why.”

  Smith doesn’t answer, only eyes him surreptitiously.

  “Ok, so I think I’ve figured out by now that you don’t like to talk much, so with that in mind I think I’ll do most of the talking hey? How about I tell you how it was that I came by your windscreen, yeah?”

  Smith’s eyes go slightly wide, “see as seen.”

  “Yeah, yeah. C’mon, you’re dying to know all about me aren’t you?”

  This time Smith shoots him a look, it’s quick and sharp but Harrison mistakes it for a yes, he just wants to tell Smith all about what he’s been up to.

  “Years ago I was doing maintenance for a large ISP, who was having unknown mainframe glitches. I was contracted to figure out what the issue was and resolve it.”

  “Without getting too technical I did happen to find a glitch in their system. It turned out, after some seriously laborious investigating by me, that the glitch had been caused by a hacking client that was embedded in their software.”

  “Only this hacking technology I’d never ever seen before, state of the art and masked so well that it would seem like a normal part of the system. Truly it was a work of art. So rather than removing it from the system I decided to leave it where it was, take a copy and explore it for myself.”

  “You see, I’ve been a hacker myself a long time, I love it. It’s like a game, and I love the challenge that a game creates. Copying the hack programme and taking it home was to me like a kid getting a new PlayStation at Christmas.”

  “Anyway, as I was saying, the technology was state of the art, it was sleek, perfectly designed. You wouldn’t believe how awesome it was. It worked kind of like spyware does, tracking information and sending it to a host, only this was doing
something far more than collecting the data from the servers.”

  “It acted as if it was the host, meaning not only did all the information go through it, but the power to control it did too. And all without anyone knowing it was there in the first place. As I said it was completely masked.”

  “I didn’t want to know about it at first, as it seemed like something out of a movie. A programme that can manipulate and control all other programmes’, kind of evil right?”

  “I left it unaltered and decided to look into other service providers I’d contracted for in the past, to try and see if they had the same issue. I got in to their systems and found the same thing, the very same programme operating the very same way.”

  “It was almost as if someone had tapped into everything electronic and digital via this hack, meaning they had the power to access anything digital wirelessly. Surely this wasn’t legal? And someone or thing had to be responsible for it being there?”

  “At the time I’d conjured up images of an artificial intelligence robot, who was at the root of all the problem, secretly controlling the world. It might’ve sounded silly but I certainly didn’t think a person could be responsible.”

  “I mean, I have legitimate gripes against the governments of the world but this, this was far too serious.”

  “The problem was that I couldn’t find a central hub, a place where all the information was being sent to, I think it was a fluke I even found that it existed. Anyway, I couldn’t fix it and I couldn’t find its host and unsure of what to do I decided that I would try something a little different. I had to try something, this bug, whatever it was, didn’t belong. It could only have been there on purpose and only as a measure of control.”

  “So I tried to use it myself. I hacked into the software and, well, let’s just say I changed a few things.”

  “Man, that was the first time I was ever arrested, within less than fifteen minutes of me hacking the software and using it I had an army of federal police knocking down my door.”

  “Very smart … Han Solo.” Smith says aloud, eyes still on the road, his emphasis on the name Solo gives Harrison goose bumps.

  “I know right, I’d hoped it would’ve gotten someone’s attention but not to this extent. And I certainly didn’t think I would have government goonies knocking down my door as a result. I knew something wasn’t right and me getting arrested only confirmed the government had to be involved somehow.”