by Peter Tylee
“But won’t that blow the whistle?”
Esteban was trying to mask his keen interest in Dan Sutherland. “That’s what we’ve got to find out. Don’t worry about it; I can take care of them if they make any trouble. Okay?”
She nodded, wishing he’d never talked her into doing something so risky. It’d be smarter to leave the exclusive lists alone.Though she had to admit she was enjoying the praise Jackie lavished on her for transforming the bounty-hunting branch into UniForce’s strongest growth sector. It made her feel useful and she prized that more than anything. Finally she had something she was good at.
Esteban wished he had a cigar and cursed the sensitivity of the smoke detectors. UniForce had dotted sprinklers across the otherwise white ceiling and he knew from experience that a cigar would set them off.
He had long-term plans for Dan Sutherland’s demise. But they weren’t finalised yet, there was ample room for a poetic twist to complement his demonic scheme.
*
Thursday, September 16, 2066
19:54 Albury, Australia
Dan yanked on the handbrake and unbuckled his seatbelt.
“Why are we stopping here?” Jen didn’t entirely trust him yet.
“My parents place is about five kilometres from here, just over that hill.” He pointed into the darkness. “I don’t want to park a stolen car in their driveway.”
“Oh yeah.” Jen hadn’t thought of that.
“It won’t take us long,” Dan said while reaching for his coat that he’d tossed on the back seat. It was a warm September evening so he folded it across his arm. “Are you cold?”
Jen wasn’t wearing much, she’d portaled from Tweed Heads directly into the climate controlled mall, never giving much consideration to what the weather might be like in the lower half of Australia. A warm sirocco-like breeze crawled across her flesh. “No, I’m fine.”
“Let’s go then.” Dan was nervous about seeing his parents again. He hadn’t even phoned them for six months and now he was about to knock on their door with a cantankerous ex-target in tow.
Jen stumbled after him, uncomfortable with her limited choices. She’d never been to Albury before and had no clue where to find the centre of town. Dan had painstakingly driven around the bubble of activity on the main street, which dissected the highway, preferring to avoid the prying pole-mounted cameras designed to make the streets safer. As far as Jen could tell, they were in the bush – a eucalyptus haze hung thick in the air and made breathing difficult for her sensitive lungs.
A twig snapped under Dan’s heavy feet, causing fear to ping through Jen’s body. Her eyes were wide but she could see little thegloom. I’m following a man I don’t trust into the bush.It reminded her of a horror movie she’d seen in a recent horror-binge. She stayed a dozen metres behind him, his silhouette barely visible against a backdrop of twisted scarecrow branches and sparse leaves. At the first sign of danger, she was ready to turn and sprint for the car. Not that I can start it.It was another disturbing thought to add to the growing list.
There was a rustling of leaves to Jen’s right. It came from somewhere in the undergrowth and she decided that Dan might not be the scariest thing in the bush. Common sense told her that nothing was dangerous in Australia. Other than snakes and spiders.But fear had firmly settled in and she was beginning to lose her nerve.
Snap out of it!She mentally slapped herself. He saved my life today. If he wanted me dead, he would’ve let the Raven do it. Besides, he can’t be all that bad, he caught my grandfather’s killer.It was only after they’d been walking for another ten minutes that Jen realised she had no way of knowing whether the Raven was shooting at her… or at him.And what proof did she have that this man was really Daniel Sutherland? He could be anyone.
She stopped, confused.
Dan heard. “What’s wrong?”
“You… how do I…what proof… It’s difficult to trust you. You are, after all, leading me into the bush.”
Dan mentally groaned and thought, I thought we’d passed all this?“You know, you’re right. You don’t have to trust me. In fact,” he snorted a laugh, which sent shivers dancing the length of Jen’s spine, “you can stay here if you want. I’mgoing to my parent’s house. We’re getting close. We’ll reach a road if you’d care to follow me for another 50 metres. And, unless I’m mistaken, there’s also a streetlight or two.” He recommenced trudging into the gloom and left Jen to whatever decision she was going to make.
She listened to him leave and wished she were back in her apartment. She doubted she could blunder her way to town in the dark, so unless she followed Dan she’d have to stay in the bush until dawn. “Shit!” she said through clenched teeth and, reluctantly, hurried to catch up.
True to his word, they emerged from the trees and Jen’s boots cheerfully gripped the bitumen.
“You see,” Dan said, pointing to a streetlight on the top of a rise. “There’s a sign under that light, you can’t quite read it from here, but it says Thurgoona Park. We go left there and we’re back in civilization.”
Jen, comforted, quickened her pace to walk next to him. In times past the road would have buzzed with cars, all with too much engine under the hood and not enough brain behind the wheel. But since PortaNet had inundated society with instantaneous transportation, the Roads and Traffic Authority had left the roads for the weather.
The temperature was dropping and Jen vigorously rubbed her bare arms,trying to keep them warm.
“You want this?” Dan offered his coat.
She nodded and said, “Thanks,” then gratefully wrapped it around her body, feeling as if she was swimming in the oversized garment.
A few minutes later, they turned onto Bennett Road and Dan jerked his head at a solid brick house. “That’s it.”
Jen used her imagination to picture the brown tiled roof and mottled bricks with beige guttering and trims. The twinkling starlight made it difficult to determine the precise colours, but she could see it had once been a majestic home. And big.Although it was narrow at the front, it stretched a long way towards the rear of the sizable block; she saw it as she crunched across the gravel driveway. Towering pines lined three sides of the property, providing privacy from the street, and Jen could smell flowers – thousands of them. The sweet perfume reminded her of a florist. And the flower garden’s intense array of orange and crimson practically glowed in the dark.
Automatic lights illuminated the veranda in a sudden flood,luring moths and making Jen wince from the stab of pain on her retinas. She slapped at a sting on her neck, cursed the mosquito she’dsmeared across her palm, and then scratched at the lump that was already emerging from her irritated skin.
Dan rang the doorbell.Gone were the days he could waltz on in. Jen thought she could hear a muted argument from within as Dan’s parents quibbled about who’d get the door. Eventually it cracked open and a man in his sixties stuck his nose out. He recognised his son immediately and swung the door wide. “Dan!”
“Hi pop,” Dan said, looking embarrassed when his father shakily descended the steps and clasped him in a bear hug that belied the older man’s age.
“Dan! Hey Marie, it’s Dan!” He heartily slapped his son’s back before holding him at arm’s length and gauging his health, and then hugged him a second time.
Jen thought she saw a thickening to the sheen in the man’s eyes.
A moment later, a buxom woman bounded to the door and completed the family reunion by bursting into a joyful bout of sniffles. “Come here,” she ordered tearfully.
Dan dutifully ascended the steps and embraced his mother, presenting her with a kiss on the cheek that every good son should bestow on his mother after such a long time apart. He eventually extricated himself for long enough to conduct proper introductions. “Mum, Dad, this is Jennifer Cameron.”
“Hello Mr and Mrs Sutherland,” Jen said, holding out a hand for each of them to shake. “Please just call me Jen.”
“Only if you’ll cal
l me George,” Mr Sutherland replied, eyeing her approvingly. He winked and, rather than making her feel uncomfortable, it helped put her at ease. Because at that point, Jen finally accepted that Dan wasn’t going to dismember her in a grisly murder and then dump her body in a dam for some poor farmer to find two weeks later when the stench of her bloated corpse finally attracted his attention. But she still wasn’t exactly comfortable with her circumstances.
“And me Marie,” MrsSutherland said, sidling past the hand Jen was offering to welcome her with a brief squeeze and a firm kiss on each cheek. She’d decided that anyone travelling with her son deserved a proper reception.
Dan caught his parents’ insinuations and decided to correct their misapprehension right away. He hadn’t found someone after Katherine’s death. He never would. “She’s a business associate. We were in the area and thought we’d drop by.”
George Sutherland made a show of scouring the driveway. “How’d you get here?”
“Taxi,” Dan lied easily, delivering it with a smooth smile and a slap to his father’s back. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“Well you’ve done that.” Marie was wearing a floral dress. She wouldn’t have been caught dead wearing one as a girl but she thought it appropriate now that she was edging into her late sixties. “Come, come. You’re letting the insects in.”
“Wait a second,” Dan said seriously. “We’ve got something toxic on our boots.” His parents knew better than to ask how thathad happened. They’d learned that lesson repeatedly in less amicable times. “We’ll ditch our shoes and meet you inside.”
George waved to the garage. “You know where everything is.” He beamed a smile, showing his white teeth. They were too white – obviously fake. “It’s good to see you again, son.”
“It’s good to see you too, pop.” Dan swatted at a moth that was trying to sneak inside with the smaller insects. “Go on, we’ll be in soon.”
Marie and George retreated into their warm nest while Dan tugged Jen by the sleeve to the far side of the house where some kind of vine was holding up several sheets of rotten lattice. “Take off your boots,” he said, already slitting his laces with a knife. “They have nanotoxin in the soles.”
Jen mutely obeyed, somewhat stunned by how normal his parents seemed. She wondered if they had any idea what he did for a living. They tossed both sets of boots into the garbage, quickly following them with Dan’s coat. “We’ll have to chuck the rest after a shower.”
“Then what will I wear?” Jen resisted the urge to run a hand through her unruly hair. She knew stray shards were lurking just beneath the surface.
“We’ll find you something,” Dan said, sounding calm. He guarded his tumultuous thoughts well. It was more discomforting than painful to face his parents again. They reminded him of long summer evenings sprawled on the patio with a mug of Marie’s glorious coffee, and innocent conversations about their goals and aspirations. Of course, Katherine was a star performer in those memories and it was difficult to be back in Albury without her. It amplified his emptiness. He’d become good at barring his personal feelings at work, but Jen had unwittingly torn down his defences and he felt unprepared for the psychological war he was waging.
“Come on.” Dan courteously held the door open and let Jen enter first.
Marie and George were waiting for them at the kitchen table. But Marie stood as soon as they entered and said, “Can I get you anything to drink?”
Dan knew he couldn’t leave immediately, that would just be cruel. And he hoped Jen had the good grace to behave while they were there; the last thing he wanted was to expose his parents to the harsh reality of his daily life. He wanted to shelter them from all that.
“I’d love some coffee.” Dan couldn’t stop a smile as he turned to Jen and said, “She makes the best coffee I’ve ever tasted. And I’m not just saying that because she’s my mother.”
Jen’s social instincts kicked in. She erased her cardboard expression, smiled, and replied, “Then I’d be delighted to try some, thank you Marie.”
Dan felt needle-like itches crawling across his skin and couldn’t bear the torment any longer. “Do you mind if we take a shower? We’ll need some fresh clothes too.”
George nodded. “Of course, go right ahead. Your old clothes are still where you left them.” He frowned at Jen, gauging her size. “I think some of Christine’s things are there too. You might be lucky and find something to fit Jen.”
“Thanks.” Dan whisked Jen into the cold half of the house; his parents hadn’t bothered heating it since their children had moved out.
“Wow, this place is huge.” Jen marvelled at the sheer size of the place and chocked on a string of swearwords when she reached the windowed door at the end of the corridor and peered into a room with a cathedral ceiling. By the faint sparkle of light, she saw the nine-metre indoor swimming pool, its surface as smooth as glass without a breeze to stir the water. “Your parents must be rich.”
“Actually, no.” Dan was rummaging through the cupboard in what had been his childhood bedroom. “They worked their whole lives to afford the payments on this place. They only fully repaid their loan a year ago so they’re still working to afford groceries and electricity.” He found a pair of jeans, a white t-shirt, a flannelette shirt, and the only pair of shoes his size in the cupboard. They werean old pair of work boots, still splattered with paint.His sister’s stash of clothes wasn’t very extensive and Jen had to make do with a black skirt, which Christine had worn while briefly working as a waitress, and a sleeveless shirt that was two sizes too small. “You’ll have to go barefoot. Sorry.”
Jen shrugged. “That’s okay. It’s not the first time.”
“I’ll go first. If you want, you cantalk to my parents.”
She declined, “Thanks, but I wouldn’t know what to say. I’ll just stay here.”
“I won’t be long.” Dan closed the door and the sound of streaming water soon filled the hall. He was finished in five minutes and emerged naked from the waist up, beckoning Jen to follow him into the steamy bathroom. Well toned muscles rippled across his chest, upper back and abdomen, andhis exposed flesh madeJen uncertain whether he harboured dishonourable intentions. “Here,” he said, pressing a nit-comb into her hands, “I need you to brush my hair.” The comb had narrow slits,barely enough to fit a single strand of human hair. It would supposedly remove head lice from an infected person. “I couldn’t wash it properly with all that glass.”
Jen obediently ran the comb through his hair while he held his head over the basin. Tiny flecks of clear quartz chimed against the porcelain and vanished down the drain. She’d meticulously covered every inch of his head three times, with ample overlap, before declaring it contaminant-free.
“I’ll be out with my parents,” Dan said, snatching his shirts. “Just holler when you’re ready for me to brush yours, okay?”
She nodded and locked the door after he’d retreated from the room. A mirror covered one wall of the lavish bathroom and she gazed into her eyes. How did I get myself into this mess?She ran the water. It was pink, just as she’d expected. Water was expensive. Unpolluted water was particularly expensive. Hydro-Tech held a stranglehold on the water market and charged whatever they saw fit. People had little choice but to pay the ransom – everybody needed water. They added massive doses of chemicals to sterilise and disinfect it. Pollution made most surface water unviable for bathing, let alone drinking. The pink hue was Hydro-Tech’s designation for bath-grade water. Unless it was clear, it wasn’t fit for human consumption. Drinking water underwent additional purification phases to eliminate the toxins deemed harmful when ingested. A glassful cost about two Credits.
After a quick shower, she squeezed into the clothes Dan had given her, reluctantly going without her bra. Shards had woven into its fabric, making it too dangerous to wear. The stretched white material of her shirt provided scant protection from roaming eyes and she felt horribly exposed. She was almost too embarrassed to call f
or Dan’shelp, but doubted she could untangle her knotty hair alone. When she finally workedup the nerve, she self-consciously folded her arms across her chest.
“I’ll find you something else to wear,” Dan said awkwardly and left to poke around for something more decent. He found another flannelette shirt. It was far too big for Jen, but it was definitely an improvement. “Here, put this on.”
She slipped into the oversized shirt. Oversized was just the way she liked it. Then she dutifully let him attack her hair with the nit-comb, wincing with every stroke. Jen had a particularly sensitive scalp and the jerking action of Dan’s inexperienced combing sent an aching numbness to the back of her skull. “Ouch! Watch it.”
“Sorry.” Dan combed more gently around her bumpand swore under his breath as he battled the more frustrating knots. “Done,” he finally pronounced.
Jen looked at her strait, wet hair in the mirror and gently massaged her bruise.
“We should go soon. I don’t want to linger and get my parents into trouble.”
Jen nodded. “Sounds fair. So what do we do now?”
“Where do you hide your microchips?”
She dug into her bundle of clothes on the floor and extricated her chip selector.
“You got any in there you’ve never used before?” Dan eyed it hopefully.
She slowly shook her head. “The best I can do is one that I haven’t used for, uh, six weeks or so.”
“Okay, that’ll have to do. Use that one. We’ll portal to a station near your apartment, something that gets heavy traffic, like a supermarket or mall.” He had a distant look to his eyes and Jen wondered what he was thinking. “We’ll have to approach carefully and you’ll have to do exactly what I say, agreed?”
She nodded.
“Good. Let’s go.”
They said a brief farewell to Mr and Mrs Sutherland over what turned out to be a heavenly cup of coffee. Dan had to promise to stay in touch and the Sutherlands pestered Jen into accepting a tour of their sleepy little town when she had some time to whittle away. Hearty thanks and a quick flash later, they were standing in the Tweed Heads central mall, a few short kilometres from Jen’s apartment.
