Heaven Nor Hell

by Paul Greenway

  ‘But we don't deal in words. We only–‘

  ‘… if you want your phones back and access to the internet returned.’

  The Four Nerds glanced at each other briefly before frantically opening their laptops.

  Chapter Ten

  Thursday

  Very early the next morning, Dawn – the real one – was reclining in a chair as Buxom Makeup Girl tried applying mascara and Asian Makeup Girl attempted to insert padding into Dawn's bra. But the cranky TV host shooed the girls away and snatched the three daily newspapers strewn across a table. Each featured massive headlines on their front pages based on confessions during yesterday’s funeral.

  One headline – “Layne is Up at Dawn” – made her hyperventilate, so she ordered Asian Makeup Girl to pour another shot of whiskey into her coffee. ‘W-who? ... W-why? … Th-this is all made up. It’s s-so cruel!’

  Buxom Makeup Girl risked a smirk. ‘I think you'll find some irony if you look.’

  But Dawn didn’t understand irony. ‘It’s all lies. I don't eat baked beans, especially in bed.’ Dawn fumbled for her glasses and peered at several of the photos. ‘Hang on! If this isn't me, then it must be someone else.’ The makeup girls rolled their eyes at each other. ‘I know who that bitch is, trying to impersonate me! I will ...’

  Dawn paused as the Director of Dawn at Dawn leaned against the doorframe. ‘The boss wants to speak with you.’

  ‘But, Bob, you’re my ...’ Then, the shocking realisation sunk in.

  ‘No. The boss. The owner of this station. He's calling from Geneva on the webcam in the conference room.’

  ‘But, but I’m on set in, um, two ...’ Dawn gulped as she noticed the young woman.

  ‘Tiffany will fill in for you.’

  The exact replica of Dawn, but half the age and weight, yelped excitedly. ‘But, Bobby darling, explain to me again about that nasty autocue-y thingy.’

  * * * * *

  Jordan and the Four Nerds had worked throughout the night. Staring at laptops in a darkened room at night-time was certainly not unusual for them, but still being awake at daybreak was. Agents 1, 2 and 3 continued pacing around the ping pong table with increasing displeasure as they clutched take-away coffees.

  Although it had only been a few hours since their phones had been confiscated, each of the nerds would still robotically reach for their pockets and then alternate between sobbing and whimpering. And whenever they slumped in their chair, or their heads dropped to the table, one of the agents would clip the nerd across the back of his neck.

  * * * * *

  At the same time, Todd still lay on the stretcher, but was grinning like a schoolboy. Drs Spiky Hair and Hopeful Moustache again moved closer with pens and notepads poised, but once more they groaned as Todd continued to gabble.

  ‘… and I told Mrs Hopkins in Grade 8 that I was sick, but I was really behind the bike shed trying to chat up Bethany from Year 11. And I told my mates that me and Bethany swapped saliva, but we didn't. She really just slapped me, which has happened a lot since then. And the next day, I didn't put money in my lunch bag for my pie and donut, but I told the canteen lady with the droopy boobs that the money must've been stolen by Bethany’s brother. Then, the day after ...’

  * * * * *

  Agent 1 was increasingly weary and irate. ‘Christ, you idiots have only been without your mobile phones and Wi-Fi dongle thingies for …’ He checked his watch. ‘… about ten hours.’

  Hairy Nostrils was slumped in his chair, not responding to thumps across his skull from Agents 2 or 3; Nose Picker’s head had drooped on to his laptop; Worst Body Odour was snivelling and hyperventilating uncontrollably; and Patchy Beard was staring silently and open-mouthed at the garage door.

  Only Jordan was still operating his laptop – but with only one hand as he continually wiped sweat off his brow with the other. ‘I think I might have something.’

  There were immediate signs of resurrection from the Four Nerds.

  * * * * *

  Todd was now blathering almost incoherently as the two doctors become progressively impatient.

  ‘… but I told Kathy that I loved her. I said that to get her into bed, of course. She must've have known that's what guys like me say. But that kiss with her the other day in the car park. Wow! But I told that receptionist with the spectacular cleavage at the hospital that I'd call her too ...’

  Spiky Hair whispered angrily to his colleague. ‘Why is the bloody truth serum taking so bloody long?’

  ‘… but I think she’s married. Maybe, that shouldn’t matter because she is superhot ...’

  Hopeful Moustache gritted his teeth. ‘Because he's got so many bloody lies to confess to before he can actually tell the truth.’

  ‘… and then we met these two lady doctors who said they could inject people with this drug, so ...’

  They extracted pens and notepads from their bleached-white coats and stooped over Todd.

  * * * * *

  The Director and four associate producers had yet to agree on a name to replace Dawn at Dawn, but the show continued – albeit with some confusion.

  As Layne and Tiffany were being touched up with last-minute foundation, a mature and distinguished man and a young and buxom woman were reading the morning news from an autocue at a separate desk. Off-screen, Steve the Sports Reporter and Danny the Weatherman were preparing for their upcoming contributions.

  ‘It seems that all is not well in The Vatican.’ As footage of cardinals scurrying away from paparazzi outside Catholic churches was shown, Mature Male Newsreader continued. ‘And the disquiet caused by claims of there being no afterlife has turned to outrage as The Pope has been forced to resign.’

  For no particular reason, it was now time for Young Female Newsreader to take over as footage was presented of several empty churches in unidentified countries. ‘Attendances at churches across the world, particularly in the Catholic strongholds of Latin America, have plunged as believers accept that there is no Heaven and no Hell. There are reports of donations drying up completely, and the coffers of The Vatican plummeting, as people stop going to church and stop giving donations.’

  More film showed priests refusing to talk to reporters as Mature Male Newsreader carried on. ‘In addition, we have reports of priests from all Christian denominations resigning, but it's the Catholic Church which is feeling the brunt. It seems The Vatican’s attempts to reassure people about an afterlife have not been as successful as they would have us believe.’

  Mature Male Newsreader had read two sentences, so the autocue indicated that his colleague should now take charge. ‘Meanwhile, thousands from all religious persuasions – or, perhaps, from none at all – are protesting outside Parliament House in Canberra.’ Brief pictures depicted protesters outside the building waving placards and yelling. ‘They believe the Eternal Drug should be accessible to everyone, and not just the mother of the Prime Minister.’

  Mature Male Newsreader offered viewers the solemn expression he’d practised so many times before. ‘In other news, police have given up trying to force people to bury their dead and cremate their loved ones.’ He continued speaking over footage of people clashing with police and other authorities outside funeral homes and morgues. ‘Thousands and thousands around the country are now waiting, all hoping to buy the Eternal Drug so they can bring their family and friends back to life.’

  Young Female Newsreader presented her well-rehearsed grimace. ‘While it seems the rich and powerful, such as the Prime Minister, may have access to the Eternal Drug, the same cannot be said for the ordinary people.’ Snippets of interviews of incensed members of the public were then shown.

  Her co-host continued. ‘And while the search for the formula for the Eternal Drug continues, share prices of major pharmaceutical companies have quadrupled in the past few days as rumours continue about their access to the Eternal Drug and their promises to market the drug within days. However, smaller pharmaceutical companies
without apparent access to the drug are now subject to immediate takeovers from these mega-corporations at rock-bottom share prices.’

  Young Female Newsreader went on. ‘This has forced the regulatory authorities to suspend trading on the stock exchange for all listed pharmaceutical companies. Also, there will be immediate investigations by the World Health Organization and Interpol into the entire business practices of the world’s largest pharmaceutical companies since the Eternal Drug was first reported.’

  ‘And there are grave fears for the safety and lives of the three journalism students who first broke the story.’ Mature Male Newsreader paused for effect as film was shown of Ashleigh, Jordan and Todd arriving at the front of Channel Nine in a limousine. ‘They were warmly welcomed on to this show just a few days ago.’ He creased his forehead and jutted out a bottom lip. ‘And our hearts go out to their families and friends.’ After a well-drilled two-second pause, he chuckled. ‘Although there seems to be much less concern about the whereabouts of these people.’ In a shaky video downloaded from Facebook, the Four Nerds were shown lining up at a Star Trek conference.

  ‘And after the break we'll introduce you to our permanent new ...’ Young Female Newsreader paused, clearly startled by the unexpected content of the autocue. ‘… host of our chat show.’ She glanced off-screen at Tiffany, who waved with one hand while the other was being manicured by Buxom Makeup Girl.

  ‘And we also welcome our new …’ Mature Male Newsreader hesitated, equally disconcerted by the words sliding down the camera he was staring at. ‘… um, sports reporter and weatherman.’ He glanced to his left where, off-screen, Steve and Danny were being led away by burly security guards as two other men in suits were being briefed by an associate producer.

  Young Female Newsreader gulped, which wasn’t part of her training, before forcing a smile, which was. ‘And now some pictures of a panda on a skateboard ...’

  * * * * *

  The rubbish bins scattered along the grubby lane at the back of the Channel Nine studios had still not been collected as Dawn was shoved out the back entrance. She looked back helplessly as the door slammed shut.

  * * * * *

  Agent 1 bent over Jordan's laptop and growled. ‘Can you give me a nerd-free translation?’

  Jordan nodded. ‘I wondered why the numbers in the code, which we decoded into letters, totalled 64.’

  The bulb inside the head of Patchy Beard was the first to light up. ‘A chessboard!’

  ‘That’s right. There are 64 squares on a chessboard ...’

  Agent 1 raised a gun-free hand to his brow. ‘Oh God. How long will this take?’

  ‘… and, if so, how is the chessboard used to work out what these letters mean?’

  ‘And I am sure you're going to tell me in excruciating detail.’

  Jordan risked a momentary scowl at Agent 1. ‘The letters are linked to a particular game, of course.’

  ‘It’ll only encourage you if I ask “how” or “why”.’

  But for the first time in at least twelve hours the Four Nerds were excited.

  ‘How?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘How and why?’

  ‘Why and how?’

  ‘OK. I’ll arrange all the letters we got from the code like this.’ Jordan projected another image from his laptop on to the wall. It showed the 64 letters in alphabetical order and placed in eight rows of eight. ‘I then chose a game so that each move in that game is like this. So, a pawn moving to this square represents, for example, the letter “g”.’ Jordan displayed the outline of a chessboard with its pieces perfectly superimposed on to the eight rows and eight columns of letters. Jordan pressed a key on his laptop and a pawn moved to a square with the letter “g”.

  ‘But which game did you use, Jords?’ asked Nose Picker, as he inserted a finger into his nostril.

  Agent 1 took a deep breath and aimed his gun at Jordan's head. ‘Will this encourage you to hurry up and give me the bloody formula for the Eternal Drug?’

  ‘I think that's, um, quite possible.’ Jordan glanced at the weapon and gulped. ‘But remember that only the pharmaceutical companies and media called it the Eternal Drug.’ Jordan pressed some more keys on his laptop and projected section of a film clip of an interview with Dr Olsson.

  ‘My colleagues and I have created a new super drug that can bring people back from the dead. We call it Deep Blue.’

  Patchy Beard clapped his hands. ‘Garry Kasparov versus Deep Blue!’

  Still holding the gun to Jordan’s temple, Agent 1 moaned. ‘I can't believe I’m asking this, but who and what?’

  ‘Years and years ago,’ explained Jordan, ‘there was an historic chess series between the Russian champion Garry Kasparov and a mega-computer called Deep Blue.’

  ‘But why that series?’ Worst Body Odour couldn’t remember the last time he was so excited.

  Jordan leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head. ‘Because it's a metaphor.’ The Nerds glanced at each other before clicking the “dictionary” icon on their laptop toolbar. ‘Because that series was a battle of one man against the world … Because the outcome was unexpected … And because deceit was alleged but never proved.’

  Hairy Nostrils was also enthralled. ‘But which games?’

  ‘The first, and the last. Another metaphor.’

  Having effectively checked their digital dictionaries, the Four Nerds nodded earnestly.

  ‘Obviously.’

  ‘The first.’

  ‘… and last.’

  ‘Great metaphor.’

  Agent 1 growled. ‘Can you idiots possibly get any nerdier?’

  Jordan projected a final image onto the wall. The Nerds adjusted their black thick-rimmed glasses and soon began chortling.

  Agent 1 scrutinised the image thoroughly before glaring back at Jordan. ‘But this isn't a formula. It's an abbreviated message or something.’

  Jordan shrugged. ‘I didn't write it. I just decoded it.’

  ‘But, but we need to know, we have to know, how to create the Eternal Drug. The Prime Minister’s mother ...’ As Agent 1 angrily extracted a phone from his jacket pocket the Four Nerds began to salivate.

  While Agent 1 made the call, Patchy Beard unsuccessfully endeavoured to attract his attention. ‘Excuse me, Mister Secret Service Man.’

  ‘We have cracked the code, sir.’

  ‘Now that it has been solved ...’

  ‘But it’s just a message, sir.’

  ‘… could you please ...’

  ‘No, it’s not the formula, sir. A message of some sort. That’s all. Sorry, sir.’

  ‘… return our, um …’

  ‘I will bring a copy of the message to you right away, sir.’

  ‘… phones and, um ...’

  ‘Yes, sir. It would be a pleasure to clean up the loose ends. A real pleasure.’ Agent 1 slid the phone back into his pocket, glowered at the Four Nerds in turn, and raised his gun. ‘Now, that the code has been solved, I don’t need you idiots any–‘

  Everyone turned as a series of clunks indicated that the garage door was opening. The three agents instantly repositioned their bodies and aimed their weapons. But when the door was half-open, they gradually lowered their guns as they realised that no-one was outside.

  ‘I wouldn't turn around, lads. I do have a gun. A big one.’ As the man in the corner of the garage dropped the remote control onto the drum knit, he cocked his rifle and aimed it at Agent 1’s head. ‘You know the drill.’ The three agents watchfully dropped their weapons to the concrete floor and raised their hands. ‘I was just off to shoot some rabbits.’ The man turned to Jason and the Four Nerds, whose mouths were still gaping wide. ‘You guys look like the outdoor types. I thought you’d all like to join me and kill some innocent animals for pointless fun.’

  Jason and the Four Nerds managed to close their jaws and feign enthusiasm.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Sounds like,
um, fun.’

  ‘Yeah, fun.’

  ‘Can’t wait.’

  The man shifted his aim from one agent to the next. ‘But, of course, if there's no rabbits, we can always kill government men in trendy suits.’ Immediately, all three agents stooped under the garage door and sprinted towards the main road.

  Jordan was the first to speak because he recognised the man. ‘Dom?’

  * * * * *

  The truth serum was gradually wearing off. As he became fully awake, the two doctors tightened the strapping around Todd's arms. He blinked several times as he peered around the room. ‘W-what's go-going on?’

  ‘You fell over several times.’ Dr Spiky Hair tried to appear sympathetic. ‘You must've fainted.’

  ‘But I feel fine.’ Todd winced as he tried to move. ‘The only pain I feel is in the top of my arm … Did I keep falling on a needle?’ Todd attempted to roll over before realising he was strapped to a stretcher. ‘And you don't look like doctors.’

  Dr Hopeful Moustache looked affronted. ‘But we have really white coats and stetho-um-thingies and–’

  The two doctors swivelled around as they heard a key rattle in the lock. They glanced at each other fearfully and bowed their heads before swiftly exiting the room and scurrying down the corridor.

  Todd manoeuvred his torso and grinned. ‘Uncle Charlie!’

  Chapter Eleven

  Friday

  By about 6pm on the final day of the university week the bar was packed. As Ashleigh strolled in, those who’d been at the pool table for the past five hours and others who’d been pretending to study on their laptops for longer glanced up and gazed at her sequinned gown. She bunched up the hem and shuffled towards Todd, who was sitting at their customary table and, as usual, staring forlornly at his empty glass. His legs were wrapped in orange tights and his body encased by cardboard that replicated a tin of baked beans.

  ‘I am not going to ask.’

  Todd peered at Ashleigh in horror. ‘You got married?!’

  ‘I was a bridesmaid, you idiot.’

  ‘Thank God. I always thought you and I would, you know ...’

  ‘What?’ Ashleigh didn’t know whether to shudder or scream.

  ‘… tie the knot. Hopefully, with the honeymoon before, during and after the wedding.’

  Now she was truly horrified. ‘In your dreams!’

  ‘That too.’ Todd leaned as close to Ashleigh as the cardboard tin would allow and whispered. ‘Look, how about if we're both unmarried at the ripe old age of, say, 29 we get hitched?’