by Rod Rees
‘C’mon, Ella,’ complained Oddie, ‘that’s not possible.’
‘Oh yes it is,’ said Norma quietly. ‘It was done with me. That’s how Aaliz Heydrich managed to take control of my body here in the Real World.’
Oddie wasn’t impressed. ‘But even if Bole is successful, there’ll still be only a few million of these Grigori-aspected people, a drop in the ocean compared to the size of the world’s population. Shit, there are almost nine billion people on earth.’
Ella gave a humourless laugh. ‘Not for much longer if Bole has his way. That, I think, is the purpose of this new super-Plague the Boles have been cooking up in the Demi-Monde, – this “potentially lethal” super-plague. They’re going to use it to attack those of the human race who aren’t Grigori-aspected. And from what we learned back in the Institute, the Plague is already out there courtesy of noöPINC, just waiting for the Boles to activate it.’
‘But surely that will involve the slaughter of billions of people!’
‘Billions of UnderMentionables, Oddie,’ observed Ella. ‘Bole doesn’t regard non-Grigori as real people. He holds them in total contempt. He wouldn’t regard it as a slaughter … more a culling.’
‘I don’t believe it! No one could be that deranged.’
‘Oh, I think Bole is mad enough for anything. Bole’s version of the Final Solution is one where it isn’t just the Jews who are the victims, but the vast majority of the human race.’
And that was a comment that put a crimp on the conversation. As she drove along in silence, Ella’s thoughts turned to what she could do to thwart Bole. It seemed hopeless. It was all very well Vanka – ABBA – telling her she had to protect Norma, but what was the good of that if Bole and the Grigori emerged triumphant?
She just hoped the answer would be waiting for them in Las Vegas.
*
It was still dark when Rivets and Dong E landed at Los Angeles Kenton International Airport and collected the rental Studebaker. It seemed remarkable that there wasn’t any petrol rationing in the States, but then, Rivets supposed, America was the world’s second-largest producer of crude oil. Of course, ParaDigm had offered a limo to take them to the TiME facility in Nevada but the last thing Rivets wanted was them knowing that he and Dong E were intent on making an unscheduled stop at a coffee shop to meet … well, all he knew about the girl was her name, but he guessed this Ella Thomas item wasn’t on the Boles’ Christmas card list.
As he steered the car out of the parking lot he had PINC recall the message that had popped into his head three weeks ago.
‘IF YOU TRULY WANT TO UNDERSTAND ABOUT NOÖPINC AND WHAT PARADIGM IS PLANNING WITH REGARDS TO TEMPORAL MODULATION YOU SHOULD BE IN THE KOSY KORNER KAFE IN LAS VEGAS AT NOON ON 16 APRIL. ELLA THOMAS WILL EXPLAIN. YOUR FRIEND VANKA.’
There were a number of disturbing things about the message. The first was that its encryption motif was one that Rivets didn’t recognise and as such his PINC shouldn’t have been able to decipher it … but it had. And the second was that whoever ‘Vanka’ was, he knew that Rivets was now interested in Temporal Modulations, which was bloody worrying. As Rivets understood it, apart from Dong E and himself, only the Boles were privy to that piece of intelligence and he didn’t think either of them was in the habit of sending out late-night billets-doux using the pen-name Vanka.
‘I still can’t believe we got through immigration so quickly,’ mused Dong E from the seat next to his.
‘Visiting the States isn’t so much of a problem now that Sam Thomas is president,’ Rivets answered as he eased onto the freeway. ‘Since the Kentons were booted out, there’s been a thawing in Anglo-American relations … the Cold War is officially over. Look at how accommodating the Yanks have been regarding all the Fun/Funs coming to attend the Gathering. Anyway, ParaDigm’s Nevada facility is more British than American, so we’ve got quasi-diplomatic status.’
‘Why did the Boles build a TiME in Nevada? I mean, it’s slap-bang in the middle of Kenton country.’
‘All TiMEs are sited outside the Empire: the last thing the Boles wanted was a Tunguska happening in their own backyard. That’s why they built this one in the middle of a desert where only Yanks and lizards would get fricasseed if the thing goes bang. Anyway, ParaDigm got a thousand-year lease on the Nevada site as part of the compensation deal they negotiated with the Yanks for the delivery of the Plague vaccine back in 1947 so I suppose Nevada was as good a place as any.’
For the next half-hour they drove in silence, both of them jet-lagged from the overnight flight and neither of them relishing the long drive to Las Vegas.
Not that there was any chance of Rivets falling asleep at the wheel: the bells saw to that.
The Americans might have put an atheist in the White House, but the West Coast remained Believers’ territory, where everybody took their religion very seriously indeed. Every morning the church bells rang to welcome dawn, to signal that God had once again vanquished Satan and rolled back the night. The Kentons might have gone but the cacophony of bells that welcomed each dawn was their noisy bequest to America.
Rivets leant across to stab the ‘On’ button of the car’s radio. Anything to drown out the sound of the bells, and with Polly coverage hopeless in the States, it was back to analogue.
The radio crackled into life. ‘… ling all Believers to give thanks for the gift of a new day from the Lord, our God. Let us offer our prayers for the defeat of that old devil, Satan, and the crushing of his sidekick, the Great Beast.’
Inwardly Rivets groaned. He’d forgotten that Believers’ Broadcasting was the most popular radio station in the US. He moved to switch channels.
‘No, leave it on, Rivets,’ objected Dong E. ‘It’s interesting. When in Rome and all that.’
‘Remember, friends,’ gushed the announcer, too chirpy by half for six o’clock in the morning, ‘it’s only two weeks to the Gathering … just fourteen days before Norma Williams gives you the opportunity to rid yourself of your addictions and to prepare yourself for Revelation. And to do that, friends, requires doing only one simple thing: obeying the nuCommandments as revealed by God’s Last Prophet, Frank Kenton. There is nothing more important for a Believer than adherence to the nuCommandments. Remember what our Lord Jesus Christ said when he gave the Sermon on the Mount: “Whoever therefore breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches men so, shall be called least in the kingdom of heaven: but whoever does and teaches them, he shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven.” That’s the bottom line, friends, you either obey or you stray and with only fourteen days to go before Revelation now is not the time to start straying into the ever-open arms of Satan. And to fill your hearts with the joy of the Lord, here’s your favourite and mine, Nirvana playing “Revelation HayRide”…’
Mentally Rivets switched off. He hated Kurt Cobain and his mawkish religious sentimentality. He checked his watch: BBNews would be on in five minutes. He sat back to wait, using the time to count the number of churches that lined the route out of LA, giving up when he reached thirty. Hardly surprising, he supposed, given that LA was ‘The Religious Capital of the World’.
Finally, thankfully, the trilling of Cobain faded, the organ music that trailed BBNews cut in and a presenter – his voice solemn and reassuring – began to read the news.
‘Top story today, folks, is the news that the FBI have raised fears that atheist terrorists will attempt to disrupt the Gathering. A nationwide hunt has begun for a girl of Hamitic appearance going by the name of Ella Thomas, who is wanted for questioning with regard to the diabolical activities of those disciples of the devil, the Black Panthers. So keep your eyes peeled, folks; the handmaiden of Satan walks amongst us.’
Rivets froze in his seat, paralysed by shock. Ella Thomas was the girl he was scheduled to meet in Las Vegas! Ignoring the rest of the news, he sat back into his seat trying to get his head around what he had just heard.
‘I think we should keep our meeting with Ella Thomas as shor
t as possible, Dong E,’ he said when he’d calmed down. ‘I’m less than happy that the girl we’re scheduled to meet is a fugitive from the FBI.’
‘I agree. And once we’ve met her, then what?’
‘We’ll have to play it by ear. They’re expecting us at the Nevada TiME facility this afternoon to be given the ten-cent tour by the guy running it, your old flame Sam Madden.’
Dong E laughed. ‘He was never a “flame”, Rivets, he just hit on me big time at ParaDigm’s Christmas bash last year. Really came on hot, heavy and horny.’
‘Sounds like Madden. Anyway, he’s been tasked with showing us the ins and outs of the TiME machine.’ He looked across to his girlfriend. ‘You still wearing your lucky necklace, Dong E?’
Dong E laughed and touched the string of metal beads she was wearing around her neck. ‘Don’t worry, Rivets, I wouldn’t be parted with it for the world.’
*
An anxious Ella sat in the Kosy Korner Kafe just as she had been instructed by the eyeMail, waiting for ‘Robert’, her only comfort being that Burl and Oddie had positioned themselves at a table by the door guarding the entrance. When ‘Robert’ walked into the café, she did a double take – the last person she had been expecting was Rivets, or at any rate someone who looked a lot like Rivets: the crumpled suit and the long hair confused her for a moment but he had the same impish twinkle in his eye and the same lack of inches as Vanka’s sidekick.
‘Rivets?’ she called out.
The man looked towards her and frowned, then took the Chinese girl he was with by the arm and steered her towards Ella’s table. ‘I’m supposing that you’re Ella.’ He thrust out a hand. ‘I’m Bob Vetsch and this is my friend Dong E.’ They shook hands and Ella waved them both into the booth she was occupying. ‘How come you know that my friends call me Rivets?’
‘It’s a long story. Let’s just say that you and Dong E have been duplicated in a computer simulation I’ve been involved with and there you’re known as Rivets.’
‘I’m in the Demi-Monde?’ asked a surprised Dong E. ‘ParaDigm used me as a template for a Dupe?’
‘Correct. And you were one important girl there. As I heard it, you’re the girl pitching to take over the Coven.’
‘Wow, that’s really something.’
‘Yeah, really something,’ said a much less enthusiastic Rivets as he signalled to the waitress for two coffees. Once these had been served, he pulled the anti-surveillance bubble over the table. This was one man, Ella decided, who was determined that their conversation wouldn’t be overheard.
‘I should tell you, Ella, that I’m not cool about this meeting. According to the radio you’re now on the FBI’s Most Wanted list, so the last thing I need is the Feds making a café call and getting to thinking that you and me are brunch buddies.’
Ella shrugged, trying to show how indifferent she was to the news, but she pulled the peak of her cap just a little further down over her face anyway. ‘Thanks for the advice. I’ll try to keep this short.’
‘If you would. There aren’t many girls of your colour here on the West Coast so you stand out like a sore thumb.’
What Rivets said was true. The blacks that the Plague hadn’t killed had been made to feel mighty unwelcome by the Believers and even seventy years on it was unusual to see anyone other than Blanks braving the Wacky West.
‘And before we begin, I need to establish that you’re on the side of the angels. For all I know you might be a member of the British secret police … the Intelligence Bureau. This might be a scam by ParaDigm to test that I can keep my mouth shut, that I can stay shtum about what I’ve been told to keep shtum about.’
Ella nodded. ‘You’re right to be suspicious, Rivets, but maybe a friend of mine will be able to convince you of my bona fides.’ She glanced over to the table to her left where Norma was seated swathed in shadows and an overlarge hat. The girl stood up and came to join them.
‘You’re Norma Williams!’ gasped Dong E. ‘I’ve seen you on the Polly – you’re the President’s daughter – the leader of the Fun/Funs—’
‘And you’re Dong E,’ answered Norma as she took a seat next to Ella. ‘We were friends in the Demi-Monde.’
But whilst Dong E might have been pleased to meet Norma, Rivets didn’t seem to think much of her celebrity status. ‘I’m sorry, Ella, but I don’t find the presence of Miss Williams here in any way reassuring. The Fun/Funs are sponsored by ParaDigm, so the likelihood is that she’s working for the Boles.’
Ella made to reply but she was forestalled by Norma. ‘Let me try to answer that, Ella. While I’m not sure if there’s anything I can do or say that might convince you to trust me, Rivets, maybe if I’m totally upfront with you and Dong E, you might be inclined to give me the benefit of the doubt.’ She took a deep breath. ‘We believe that the Boles have released a biological weapon – a plague – out into the world which they’re planning to activate at the end of April. We’ve been told that you can help us stop them.’
The word ‘plague’ seemed to have resonance with both Rivets and Dong E. ‘What sort of plague?’ asked Dong E.
‘We’re not sure, but our guess is that it’s a development of the ’47 Plague. What we do know is that Bole has been using the Demi-Monde as a test site for it.’
Rivets was silent for a moment as he cogitated on what Norma had told him. ‘Okay … what you’ve just said chimes with the information that Dong E and I have and as I’m guessing that neither of you would be willing partners in genocide, I suppose, it’s cards on the table time.’ He turned to Dong E. ‘As plagues are your area of expertise, Dong E, it’s over to you.’
‘Okay,’ Dong E began, ‘we can confirm some of your suspicions. ParaDigm has been developing a refined plague virus – a modification of the ’47 Plague – and I know this because I’ve been leading the team doing just that. We’ve been charged with finding a carrier for the next-generation PINC – noöPINC – which is a cyborg-virus.’ Dong E must have seen the expressions of bewilderment on the faces of her audience. ‘A cyborg-virus is a virus that has man-made elements incorporated into its make-up, these nanocybernetic structures acting as inception points for the development of the virus. The virus grows around them. And, by doing so, absorbs the artificial elements into its genetic structure.’
‘But why?’ asked Ella. ‘What’s the point?’
‘Because old-style PINCs like the ones Rivets and I are equipped with can only be introduced into the brain via the eye … they need to use the optic nerve as a neurobahn to find their way to their optimum docking point in the brain. But noöPINC can enter the body in any way, and once it’s there the virus the noöPINC is fused with acts as the delivery mechanism, bringing it to its target site on the hippocampus.’
‘NoöPINC must be very small.’
‘Tiny, Ella. Much, much smaller than the current-model PINC. It measures just one hundred nanometres across, too small to be seen by a light microscope.’
‘The virus is attenuated – weakened – so it’s perfectly harmless and as it can’t survive outside its host, it isn’t in any way contagious. And the other big selling point of noöPINC is that everyone receiving it will be immune to the Plague. Thanks to noöPINC the Plague will go the same way as smallpox.’
‘But presumably, being so small, it could have been seeded into the rest of the world’s population without them knowing about it?’
Ella’s question gave Dong E pause. ‘Well, I suppose—’
‘My information is that the Boles have already disseminated their noöPINC around the world … everyone on earth is now noöPINC-equipped.’
Dong E frowned. ‘But why would they do that? Once it’s been switched on by ABBA, everyone will know they’re noöPINCed. People outside the Empire would go ballistic … especially the Believers here in the US. They see PINC as the Mark of the Beast.’
Ella nodded. ‘Let me ask you another question, Dong E: could the attenuated aspect of the plague be changed once it�
��s lodged in a person’s brain … could it be reactivated? It has been described to us as “potentially lethal” … we need to know what “potentially” means.’
‘Well … I suppose it’s theoretically possible that it could be reactivated … given the right stimulus.’
‘And if it was activated, would it be as lethal as its ancestor of ’47?’
Another pause from Dong E and then a reluctant ‘Yes.’
‘Then that’s what I think the Boles are about,’ declared Ella. ‘The virus element of noöPINC isn’t just a delivery mechanism … it’s there to give the Boles the power to select, on an individual basis, who becomes a Plague victim … who lives and who dies. And my guess is that those who live will be those attending the Gathering.’
‘But again, Ella, I’ve got to ask: what would be the point?’
‘To explain that, Dong E, I need to bring you up to speed on the Grigori.’
The explanation took ten minutes during which time neither Rivets nor Dong E uttered a word. When Ella had finished speaking, Rivets called for fresh coffee.
‘The funny thing, Ella,’ he admitted as he sipped at a second cup of coffee, ‘is that just a few weeks ago I’d have dismissed what you’ve just told me as so much hokum, but having seen Septimus Bole and his father up close and having learnt what the bastards have been doing for the last hundred years, it all makes a sort of weird logic.’ He drained his coffee. ‘Fuck, I think you’re right. Those bastards aren’t human and by staging a rerun of 1947 … they’re intent on getting rid of the non-Grigorian aspect of humanity. This time though there’ll be no mistakes and no vaccine.’ He gave a rueful smile. ‘I think it’s head between your legs and kiss your arse goodbye time for the human race.’
‘But we can’t just stand by and let the Boles win!’ exclaimed Dong E. ‘We’ve got to stop the Boles activating noöPINC.’
Norma shook her head. ‘No, Dong E, that’s the last thing we should do.’
