Socrates and the Ionian

by Thomas Fay

‘We don’t know for sure but we have reason to believe the accident was caused by a Flux Cell malfunction.’

  Pawel eyed the rows of cruisers warily.

  ‘Don’t worry, Pawel. They’re only dangerous if you’re driving one really fast when the malfunction occurs,’ John said. Then, casting a look at Socrates, he added, ‘You may want to keep a safe distance. Just in case.’

  ‘I will. Take care, John.’

  ‘You too, Pawel.’

  John and Socrates walked to the turbo-lifts. Reaching out, John pressed the button for up. The biometric reader scanned his fingerprint and called the lift. The doors slid open five seconds later. They got in. John pressed the button for level twenty-five and the turbo-lift ascended rapidly. A split second later, his phone rang. It was Simone.

  ‘Hey,’ John said, flipping it open. ‘Did you speak to your father?’

  ‘Yes. He suggested we should get Socrates checked out immediately,’ Simone said.

  ‘Alright, we’ll get to—’

  John’s words died on his lips as the doors slid open on level twenty-five. The two IIA agents, Naomi Jonssun and Edward Linseen, were waiting for him. A third person, an older woman with short-cropped dark hair, dressed in an austere black suit, stood behind them.

  ‘I’m going to have to call you back,’ John said.

  Twenty-Six

  The interior of Interview Room 3 was identical to the other interview rooms: a table, two chairs, bright lighting and numerous surveillance and recording devices in the walls and ceiling. Jonssun sat across the table from John. Linseen stood behind John on the left of the door. Socrates stood on the right. The mystery woman in the black suit stood behind Jonssun, near the window, looking out at the cityscape. John suspected she was the one behind the Internal Affairs investigation. The fact that they had allowed Socrates into the same room with him suggested they were here to talk rather than detain them. This presented an opportunity to learn the truth behind their investigation and potentially put an end to it.

  ‘Mr Tesh, we meet again,’ Jonssun said.

  ‘What do you want?’ John asked.

  ‘As we previously—’

  ‘I wasn’t asking you,’ John interrupted, his gaze fixed on the mystery woman. She continued to stare through the window for another ten seconds before turning around. Her pale-blue eyes locked onto his. There was a coldness there that surprised John, underpinned with a depth of knowledge he had only ever seen in two people before. He suddenly realised what she was.

  ‘What do we want, Mr Tesh?’ the woman asked. ‘We want you and your partner removed from active duty and we want your uncle in custody.’

  ‘Is that why you threatened other Sentinels with suspension?’

  ‘The Sentinels have operated without real oversight for too long. It’s time you were accountable for your actions.’

  ‘Or what? You take us out one by one?’

  A momentary flicker of emotion passed across the woman’s face. Just as quickly it was gone. If John hadn’t been watching her closely, he would have missed it.

  ‘I do not appreciate your accusation, Mr Tesh.’

  ‘And I don’t appreciate IIA trying to sideline me during an important investigation, Councillor.’

  The woman smiled. It was a facial expression completely devoid of any warmth.

  ‘Mr Tesh, IIA has been building a case against you and your android partner for years. They now have sufficient evidence to suspend you.’

  John cast around the room, looking at the two IIA officers. He was playing their game, getting drawn into their investigation. Whatever the motive behind it, their intention was clear. His uncle had been right. They wanted him and Socrates on the sidelines. What he didn’t know was why.

  It was time to play his trump card.

  ‘Councillor, I am in the middle of an investigation which has been sanctioned by your Chairman, Qallan Frost. I suggest you speak to him if you feel I am not suited to completing the investigation. Until you do, my partner and I have urgent work to do. Socrates, let’s go.’

  ‘Stay where you are!’ the Councillor demanded.

  John smiled. He hadn’t even made a move to get up. He was starting to regain control of the interrogation. Most of the women in his life would have agreed it had something do with his ability to infuriate anyone and everyone he came into contact with. They were probably right.

  ‘Or what?’ John asked. He still had made no move to stand up.

  The woman took a step towards him. Her eyes bored into his.

  ‘Do not test me, Sentinel,’ she said, her voice deathly quiet.

  ‘Forgive me, Councillor. I’m still not clear what your role in all of this is.’

  ‘Perhaps I should have begun by introducing myself—my name is Councillor Agatha Stone and I am the head of Council Security.’

  Despite his role as liaison between the Sentinels and the Ruling Council, John was still only vaguely aware of the internal structure the Ionians had created to govern the city. He had certainly never heard of Council Security. Which put him at a disadvantage, as he had no idea what her authority encompassed. He decided to try a different tack.

  ‘I’m confused, Councillor. Are you here with Internal Affairs or is this a matter for Council Security?’

  The woman smiled that humourless smile.

  ‘They are one and the same. All matters affecting the security of Iona are matters for Council Security. You are a Sentinel. While you have been granted authority over all other law enforcement and emergency services in Iona, ultimately, you report to me.’

  John cast a quick glance at the IIA officers. They remained impassive, merely pawns in the Councillor’s game. He was tempted to call Frost and seek his assistance but he realised drawing the Chairman into this investigation was a mistake. This was something he had to handle himself. He just wasn’t quite sure how he was going to do that yet.

  ‘Well, Mr Tesh?’ Councillor Stone asked. ‘Will you tell us where your uncle is and submit to Council authority or do we need to detain you?’

  ‘Is there a third option?’

  ‘I’m afraid not.’

  Twenty-Seven

  Manson had first put forward his theory in 2033. At its most basic level, it postulated that there are no coincidences, no random series of events that combined to create a certain outcome. Many people simply refused to accept the theory, preferring to believe in coincidence, particularly the likelihood of a series of events combining to produce a desirable outcome. John wasn’t really sure if he believed in Manson’s theory or not. He had been in enough situations over the years to know that there were definitely times when events aligned to create a particular result. Usually it was when things went wrong, with coincidence conspiring to bring about the worst possible outcome. Luck, on the other hand, was a completely different construct altogether. He knew he had been lucky over the years, particularly in his younger days when he’d been more reckless. Nonetheless, luck was an old friend that seldom let him down. This was no exception.

  The door to the interview room was thrown open and the Chief entered. He took in the situation inside the room. His gaze focused on Councillor Stone.

  ‘This interrogation is over,’ the Chief said.

  ‘We haven’t finished,’ Councillor Stone said.

  ‘You have now. I’ve just lost one of my own and I need Tesh and Socrates.’

  Councillor Stone straightened up. ‘These two are the subject of an IIA investigation and are on the verge of being suspended. They’re not going anywhere.’

  ‘Are they suspended?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Then they’re still on active duty and as such report to me and I need them out in the field. Now.’

  Councillor Stone stared at the Chief for a full sixty seconds. Finally, she nodded.

  ‘Very well, but this isn’t over. We’ll be in touch.’

  Gesturing to the two IIA officers, she said, ‘Let’s go.’

  The three of the
m left the room, leaving John, Socrates and the Chief alone.

  ‘Thanks, Chief,’ John said.

  ‘What the hell have you gotten yourself mixed up in this time, Tesh?’ the Chief demanded.

  ‘I’m not exactly sure but someone is definitely trying to sideline me and Socrates. This IIA investigation seemed bogus from the start. Now this Councillor, whom I’ve never heard of, shows up claiming to be the head of Council Security. It stinks, Chief.’

  ‘Councillor Agatha Stone is the head of Council Security,’ Socrates said.

  John turned to his partner. ‘How do you know that?’ he asked.

  ‘Because I have detailed files on all Councillors. I believe it relates to the programming which required me to accept their commands.’

  ‘Right. Good to know. So, she’s legitimate?’

  ‘Yes. Her role as head of Council Security effectively gives her jurisdiction over all other agencies within Iona.’

  ‘Doesn’t she report to Frost?’

  ‘Technically, in matters of Council security, she is able to exercise absolute discretion.’

  ‘Interesting.’

  ‘What are you thinking, Tesh?’ the Chief asked.

  John considered how much to tell his boss. The Chief already knew about his uncle from the Rainmaker case years ago but he didn’t know the full truth about his uncle’s involvement with the intelligence community, his years of exile and now his return to Iona.

  ‘I’m thinking that perhaps my uncle was wrong after all.’

  ‘Your uncle? What does he have to do with this?’

  ‘I’m not sure but it can’t be a coincidence that this IIA investigation, backed by Council Security, started when he returned to Iona. This could all be about him and they’re just using me to flush him out. Although given the Ruling Council is behind this, I somehow doubt they don’t know where he really is which begs the question—what do they want with him?’

  The Chief grunted. ‘You’d better tell me everything.’

  ‘I will, Chief, but first we’ve got a case to solve.’

  ‘I thought that rogue android had been destroyed?’

  ‘It has.’

  ‘Then what case are you talking about?’

  ‘We’ve got a murder to solve.’

  ‘You mean …?’

  ‘Yes. We need to figure out who killed Giles Muller and why.’

  Twenty-Eight

  The turbo-lift descended rapidly. John’s phone was in his hand and dialling Simone’s number as the doors slid open on level B1. She answered on the second ring.

  ‘What took you so long?’ she asked.

  ‘Sorry, I got held up by Councillor Agatha Stone and Internal Affairs,’ John replied as he and Socrates stepped out of the lift. They made their way across to where James Gleason was working on the prototype motorcycle.

  ‘Stone?’ Simone asked. Her voice betrayed her surprise.

  ‘Yes. Do you know her?’

  ‘She’s the head of Council Security. What did she want with you?’

  ‘My uncle.’

  ‘Your uncle? What’s he done?’

  ‘No idea. There’s quite a bit I don’t yet understand about what’s going on but I’m going to find out. Starting with why someone killed Giles Muller.’

  ‘What about Socrates?’

  John cast a glance at his partner. The android stared back at him with eyes that only appeared human. Underneath lurked a sophisticated machine powered by a Flux Cell. The very device their unknown enemies were turning into a weapon against them.

  ‘I just need to check one thing quickly here and then we’ll get him to Professor Holstein’s laboratory.’

  ‘Alright, but don’t take too long. I’ll meet you at the lab.’

  ‘We’ll be there as soon as we can.’

  ‘Be careful, John.’

  ‘You too.’ She hung up.

  John closed his phone. Turning to James Gleason, he said, ‘James, I need your help. Again.’

  ‘I heard about Muller. I’m sorry, John. Anything you need.’

  ‘That’s actually why I’m here. I need you to pull up the call log for Muller’s phone from this morning up to the time of the accident. Also check any messages and emails he may have received.’

  James sat down at the nearest desk. A wave of his hand brought the virtual keyboard to life. The mint green light of the keys illuminated his face and hands as he worked. Data began to scroll across the LED screen in front of him.

  ‘This is the call log. Looks like he made and received about a dozen calls this morning. Nothing unusual—Sentinel HQ, his wife, his partner Diana Hawkes.’

  ‘What about messages? Emails?’ John asked.

  ‘Give me a sec. Okay, here it is. A lot of standard procedural stuff, some personal ones and … hang on.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘He got a message about ten minutes before the accident. Unknown number.’

  ‘Any way we can find out what was in that message?’

  ‘Not without hacking into the communications network.’

  John turned to Socrates.

  ‘I guess you’re up,’ he said.

  ‘Excuse me, John, but are you asking me to access the network illegally?’ Socrates asked.

  ‘Damn right I am. Whatever was in that message could be the key to why Muller was killed in the tunnel.’

  ‘You know that I am prohibited from doing that.’

  ‘Damn it, Muller’s dead. We don’t have time for this. Just do it!’

  ‘Very well. One moment.’

  Socrates’s eyes blurred as he interfaced with the telecommunications network.

  ‘Link established. Searching …’

  John watched his partner do something that would have been impossible for any human being to do. A long time ago he and the Chief had asked Socrates to restrict his abilities in order to ensure he didn’t compromise the Sentinels. Only during the power struggle for control of the Ruling Council had those restrictions been lifted. Now, the need had arisen again.

  ‘I have located the message. Decoding now.’

  John silently urged his partner to hurry up. The prospect of Socrates’s Flux Cell malfunctioning was not one he wanted to contemplate. The sooner Frost checked him out the better.

  ‘Displaying message on screen.’

  The LED screen in front of James changed to display the contents of the text message. The words appeared one by one until the full message was visible on screen. It read:

  Giles, it’s me. Something strange is going on. The building power started spiking off the charts yesterday. Today a number of trucks showed up. They started bringing a lot of equipment into the basement levels. Then they sent us all home. Whatever is going on, it’s serious. You should check it out. The address is 159 Walker Street, North Sydney.

  ‘Well, at least we know where he was going,’ John said.

  ‘Should we proceed to North Sydney?’ Socrates asked.

  John shook his head. ‘No. We need to get you checked out first. Then we’re going to find out what’s going on across the bridge. Come on.’

  Twenty-Nine

  The Sentinel cruiser exited the Eastern Distributor tunnel and merged with afternoon traffic on Southern Cross Drive heading towards the airport. John mashed his foot down on the accelerator. The speedometer needle climbed steadily above the legal speed limit of ninety kilometres per hour.

  ‘John, is it wise to drive at this speed considering what happened to Sentinel Muller?’ Socrates asked.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that. I think that that Flux Cell weapon or disruption device, whatever it is, needs to be very close to the Flux Cell they want to target. Which means someone had to be close to Muller in the tunnel and either that rogue android generated the effect or someone else was near the CTS warehouse,’ John said.

  ‘Could it not be a directed beam similar to the Ionian’s orbital strike?’

  ‘I don’t think so. How would they have hit Muller u
nder the harbour?’

  ‘Your logic is plausible.’

  ‘Which means we may be able to figure out what this device is.’

  John scrolled through his call list on his phone. Finding the number he wanted, he hit the green dial button. The call was answered on the third ring.

  ‘John, are you alright?’ James Gleason asked.

  ‘So far. James, I need you to do something for me.’

  ‘Sure. What do you need?’

  ‘I need you to review that footage from outside the CTS warehouse when the Flux Cells malfunctioned this morning. I also want you to review the footage from the harbour tunnel up to the time of the accident.’

  ‘Okay. What am I looking for?’

  ‘The device that caused the Flux Cell malfunctions.’

  ‘Okay. Any idea what it looks like?’

  ‘None whatsoever. Until today I didn’t even think it was possible to mess with a Flux Cell.’

  ‘That doesn’t give me a lot to go on.’

  ‘Time to get lucky.’

  ‘Right. Leave it with me. I’ll call you if I find anything.’

  James hung up the phone. John turned right onto the exit near the airport. The cruiser decelerated rapidly as they approached a red-light force-field barrier. It came to a complete stop behind a Celine family sedan. It was dark blue in colour.

  ‘John, I have identified the telephone from which the message to Sentinel Muller was sent,’ Socrates said.

  ‘Who sent the message?’

  ‘It was a corporate telephone with a restricted number.’

  ‘It seems Muller had some interesting friends. Which corporation?’

  ‘Gridcom.’

  ‘The power company?’

  ‘Yes.’

  John considered the implications as the light turned green and the force field barrier dissolved. The dark-blue Celine sedan accelerated slowly. John overtook it easily.

  ‘I assume 159 Walker Street is their corporate HQ?’

  Socrates’s eyes blurred momentarily as he interfaced with city databases.

  ‘That is correct. Gridcom owns a number of buildings and structures throughout Iona and Australia. The building in North Sydney is their headquarters.’