The Trust (The Downlode Heroes Book 2)

by Mikey Campling

  “That’s right,” Sue says. “Do you guys need any help?”

  Hank opens the leather pouch, pulls out the headset and turns it over in his hand. The curved glass of the lenses is unframed at the bottom and at the sides, but across the top, the lenses are attached to a black, plastic band which extends on either side to form the arms; the headset is clearly meant to be worn just like a pair of glasses. “No, we’re fine.” He rolls the empty pouch and stuffs it into his jacket pocket, then he slips the headset on. It fits perfectly and the tinted lenses flash immediately into life. For a split-second, scrolling displays of data flicker across his vision. His name floats up to the top-left, and just below, picked out in green, are the words: ALL SYSTEMS OPERATIONAL.

  “When you first use the H7 headset, it’s normal to be a little disoriented for a few minutes,” Alain says. “It takes a moment for the system to map its environment and then it will adjust to match your personal field of view.”

  “No, that’s all right,” Hank says. “My set is fine.” He nods toward the three-dimensional display that’s appeared in midair at Alain’s side. “I can see the big pyramid you’ve got, right there.”

  Alain raises his eyebrows and tilts his head back. “Really? That’s most...erm, in all my time here, I’ve never seen anyone interact with the headset so quickly. It’s very strange. And very fortunate for you.”

  “If it’s any consolation, I’m not doing so good,” Mervin says. Hank looks around. His dad is rocking back and forth on his heels. “I think I may have got a faulty pair or something.”

  “It’s best to stand very still for a few seconds,” Alain says. But Mervin takes a step back, staggering slightly.

  “Dad? Are you all right?”

  “Woah!” Mervin cries out. “The floor just went AWOL for a second there. But hold on, I’m getting this thing back under control. Wait a second. There we go. It’s all good.” He grins around the group. “Sorry about that. Took a minute to find my sea legs.”

  “That’s absolutely fine,” Alain says, returning his smile. But Laura and her dad don’t say a word. That’s right, Hank thinks, hide behind your headsets, but I know exactly what you’re thinking.

  “As you see from the diagram,” Alain says, “the program at the Downlode Trust takes place over five years.” He reaches out to the three-dimensional golden pyramid and plucks out the bottom layer. He twists his hand and the layer separates into eight golden spheres, each one labeled with a subject. “In the first year, all students follow a wide curriculum. We need to give everyone a wide base to work from, so we don’t allow any optional modules in the first year.” He runs his hand over the spheres, and they change color from gold to green. “These are our core components and they are the foundation for later years. But don’t worry if that feels too restrictive for you. We provide a wide range of extra-curricular activities and we give you additional time so that you can pursue individual areas of interest.” He swipes his hand in the air and a video appears and starts to play. It shows four students working on the head of an alarmingly lifelike android, but the scene quickly changes to show a half dozen students sitting in VR chairs. And that’s followed by shots of students engaged in worthy tasks like working out in a gym, sparring in some sort of martial art, and even poring over books in a library.

  Hank watches carefully. The video looks authentic—it’s not quite glossy enough to be fake—but even so, it all looks a little forced to him. Is it possible that the students really use all their spare time for self-improvement? Does no one ever chill out with a beer and a movie?

  “There are very clear expectations of the standard of work for all our students,” Alain goes on, “but you’ll have regular contact with your personal tutor, and with a mentor who will be a third-year student. So if you’re struggling with something, we’ll always do our best to help you achieve success.”

  “I guess…well, I suppose that sounds all right,” Mervin says. “What do you think, Hank?”

  “Yeah,” Hank admits. “But, Alain, those subjects—they’re a little weird aren’t they? I mean, applied psychology? What’s that got to do with all this high tech stuff?”

  “OK, that’s a valid question,” Alain says. “In the first year, you’ll study psychology because we want to create technologies that people will use to improve their lives. To do that effectively, we have to understand how people behave and make decisions. We also study cybersecurity, because we need our tech to be safe. Then there’s geopolitics because none of our work exists in isolation. Everything we do is in a global context. Technology and VR are vital parts of the economy of the whole world, and if we want our work to have a positive impact, we need to understand how new developments will play out on the world’s stage.”

  “All right,” Mervin says. “I get that. And I can see you’ve got physical challenge written down there too—I guess that’s to keep the students fit.”

  James tuts under his breath and it almost throws Alain off his stride.

  “Erm, that’s right, Mervin. We offer a wide range of activities, depending on the center that the students attend. But our physical education program isn’t limited to the typical sports you’ll find in most colleges. We have facilities for martial arts, cycling, climbing, snowboarding, canoeing, scuba diving, mountaineering, skiing—pretty much anything you can think of.”

  “And all that is part of the program?” Mervin asks.

  “That’s right,” Sue chips in. “And don’t worry, there are no extra costs. We provide equipment, transport, and fully qualified instructors. It’s very important to us that all the students are enjoying themselves and having the right kind of physical challenges, as well as the academic challenges they’ll face.”

  “Then we get to the more geeky parts,” Alain says, “which is what you’re all probably waiting to hear about. Software and coding are taught to a high level in the first year, and you’ll also cover a module on hardware and mods. The mods are typically built inside VR systems, but the hardware unit covers real world applications such as drones, remote sensing, and robotics.”

  “That does sound pretty cool,” Hank says. “But that one on the end—does it really say history?”

  Alain laughs. “We get that a lot. But when you think about it, our work isn’t just located in the global community, it’s also set in the context of our own history, and in the histories of the world around us.”

  “I like the sound of that,” James says. “You’ve always done really well in history, haven’t you, Laura?”

  “Sure, Daddy—I mean, Dad,” Laura says.

  “And everyone has to take that class?” Hank asks. “That sucks.”

  “Hank, you needn’t worry,” Sue says. “At the Trust, we teach things in a different way to any school or college. Show him, Alain.”

  Alain reaches up and pulls another virtual object into the air. At first, Hank thinks there’s going to be another video, but then a hologram forms in the air: a full-size soldier from Ancient Rome in full battle dress. Alongside the soldier, another appears, and another. And there are more soldiers springing into life behind him. They’re so real that Hank can see the scars on their faces, the dried mud on their sandals. A shout rings out and as one, the soldiers draw their short swords and lock their shields together. Another yelled command, and now the soldiers advance toward Hank.

  Hank’s heart is in his mouth. The room is filled with soldiers, hundreds of them, marching forward. And with each resounding step they take, the floor vibrates beneath Hank’s feet. They’re just holograms, he tells himself. They can’t make the ground shake—there is no goddamned ground. But the thoughts flee from his mind as the soldiers roar and break into a run, charging toward him, their faces twisted into brutal masks of savage fury. A shudder runs through Hank. They’re almost on him. They’ll cut him down, trample him beneath their feet. And there’s no way to stop them, no time to escape. He takes a step back, his legs unsteady, and beside him, a shrill scream splits the ai
r: “Stop it! Daddy, make it stop!”

  “It’s all right,” Alain calls out. The soldiers freeze in mid-step, their mouths open, but their roars silenced.

  “Oh my God!” Hank whispers. “That was insane. I thought…I felt…”

  But before he can say any more, Alain steps in front of the soldiers, passing through them as if they were ghosts. “Please remain calm. It’s only a demonstration.” He turns his hand in the air and the soldiers flicker and fade away, then he gives Laura a smile. “I’m sorry about that. I should’ve warned you. The first time I saw the Eleventh Legion, I was pretty freaked out myself.”

  “Hell’s teeth!” Mervin says. “That was something else, it really was.”

  “It’s impressive, isn’t it?” Alain says. “The legion is constructed and maintained by some of our top history students. The Romans are a particular favorite with one of our tutors. It’s what you might call a passion project.”

  “I felt the ground move under my feet,” Hank says. “How is that even possible?”

  Alain’s smile slips, and he exchanges a look with Sue. “I would say you have a very active imagination, Hank. And that is an admirable quality for a historian.”

  James clears his throat. “This is all very well, but can we get back to the second year? You were just telling us about the specialist options.”

  “Yes,” Alain says. He pulls the pyramid diagram back into the air in front of them, and this time, when he swipes the second layer, it opens out into a row of five spheres. The sphere labeled Physical Challenge is blue, but the rest are unlabeled. Two of the spheres are green, and the final two remain gold colored. “In the second year,” Alain goes on, “you’ll begin to specialize. Our physical challenge option is compulsory, but there are only two technical units, so you must choose two from this list.” Alain gestures toward the blue spheres and three labels appear underneath them: Cybersecurity, Software and Coding, Hardware and Mods. “You make up the remaining two units by choosing your favorite topics from the first year.” Again, with a small gesture, Alain summons up the list of topics: Economics, Geopolitics, Applied Psychology, History. He pauses and scans his audience. “Any questions? No? OK, moving on to the third year, you’ll specialize even further.” Moving his hands quickly, he repeats the process with the third layer of the pyramid, but this time there are only three spheres: one blue, one green, and one gold. “I’m sure you get the picture,” Alain says as the familiar list of topics appears. “The physical challenge unit continues, and you must pick one technical option and one supplementary subject. You’ll cover those subjects in depth, and you’ll really be encouraged to push against the boundaries of current thinking. In addition, third-year students are expected to pay their experience forward by acting as mentors for first-year students.”

  “I don’t know, Dad,” Hank mutters under his breath. “It all sounds pretty heavy.”

  Mervin nods. “Can I ask a question, Alain? Do you put the students through a whole lot of exams and tests?”

  “Assessment is measured in a variety of ways, but please, don’t imagine that the rules of the school room and the lecture theater apply in the Trust. We have reimagined the educational process from start to finish. Students are given a great deal of freedom to explore their passions and we measure success by the practical application of their skills. The Trust gives every student a whole raft of opportunities, and it’s up to the students to show what they can do.”

  “But they have to pass, right?” James says. “You can’t seriously expect me to believe that the whole thing is a free for all.”

  Alain shakes his head and smiles patiently. “It’s not a question of passing or failing. In the real world, an audacious failure often has more real value than a half-hearted success. So the Trust expects progress, and it expects the students to push themselves with total commitment. If anyone comes into the program thinking they can cruise through their studies, they’ll very quickly get a shock. We give all the help and support we can, but in the end, if the student does not appear to be a good fit for the program, it’s better all-around if they pursue their ambitions by other means.”

  “You mean, they get kicked out?” James asks, and he gives his daughter a meaningful look.

  “That rarely happens,” Sue puts in. “But if things aren’t working out, the Trust helps the student to find a place elsewhere. Even after just one year in the program, the students will have acquired a range of highly sought after skills, so they generally fall on their feet, either in a government agency or within a high-tech industry.”

  “Quite so,” Alain says. “And that takes me to the fourth year, which as you can see, has only two units.” He swipes the diagram and two spheres appear. The green sphere is labeled Industry Placement and the other is red and labeled Community Outreach. “The fourth year consists of a placement in the high tech industry sector, or within a government department. During that time, thanks to the special arrangements that the Trust has negotiated, wherever you work, you will be treated as a highly-valued employee, and you’ll have a workplace mentor who will be assigned by your employer.” Alain pauses and gives them a smile. “And here’s my favorite part—you’ll actually be paid a salary.”

  “Wait, is this some kind of intern thing?” Hank asks.

  “No,” Alain replies. “You could be working on cutting edge research, or helping to formulate government strategies, or working with a management team to implement new systems. For instance, both Sue and I are on our fourth-year placements right now. I’m working for Agrippine in their games development lab, and Sue might like to tell you about her placement.”

  Sue steps forward. “Thanks, Alain. This speaks to your earlier question, Mervin, because I’m one of a number of students who have chosen to work with our armed forces. It was a natural choice for me because I specialized last year in cybersecurity. So you see, while the Trust has links to the military and the government, we are very much independent of both. The ties only exist because they’re mutually beneficial—the government and armed forces get to meet the rising stars of the tech industries, and our students get to pursue their interests in a way that benefits society.”

  “All right. So what are you guys working on?” Hank asks.

  Sue blushes. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything about the specific project for reasons of national security. All I can say is that I have a very rewarding job, I’m making some great contacts for when I leave the Trust, and I’m working with some of the finest experts in cybersecurity in the world.”

  “And I’m afraid that I can’t give you the details of my projects,” Alain says. “I’m bound by the rules on trade secrets they have at Agrippine, but I’m working on a very exciting project, and every day I can’t wait to get to work in the mornings. So whatever you choose for your placement year, the one thing I can guarantee is that you won’t be running errands and making the coffee.”

  A ripple of laughter runs through the group. “Where do I sign up?” Mervin says.

  “Why not?” Alain says with a grin. “We value all our candidates, regardless of age, or any other arbitrary classification. We’re all about equal opportunities.”

  “I’ll pass,” Mervin says. “I don’t think I could keep up with these youngsters.”

  Alain bows his head politely. “I’m sure that’s our loss. But now we’ll move on to the community work the students do in the fourth year. There’s a whole range of options you can take, depending on your interests. Personally, I help to run a soccer club for a group of underprivileged youngsters, and I find it very rewarding. But you could do charity work or volunteer for a pet project. It’s up to you to find something you’ll enjoy.”

  “And last but not least,” Sue says, “we come to the final year.”

  “Yes.” Alain pulls the final layer from the pyramid, and as it transforms into a sphere, its label simply says Personal Research. “I’m really looking forward to next year,” Alain says. “I’ll get to choose my
own area to study, and I’ll be able to really focus down on the things that interest me the most.”

  “Me too,” Sue says. “And our final year students give something back to the Trust by filling a range of important roles. For example, they are expected to assist our tutors in some of their classes, and they also help in the day to day operations at each—” she breaks off. “I’m sorry, but I’m just getting a message to say that another member of my group has arrived.” She turns to Hank. “I think you know the basics now, so if you don’t mind, I’ll leave you to explore the stands while I go and collect him from reception.”

  “Sure. No problem,” Hank says.

  “Great, I’ll catch up with you later and see how you’re getting along.” Sue gives them a little wave and then hurries away.

  “Thanks for your help,” Mervin calls after her, but she’s already heading for the door. He looks at Hank. “All right, where do you want to start?”

  Hank turns around to survey the stands and demonstrations. At the far end of the room, there’s a row of very fancy VR chairs, but Hank looks away, diverting his attention to a huge curved screen. A woman stands in front of the screen, apparently waiting to deliver a talk, and there’s something strange about her. The lights in the hall are bright, but the woman is oddly ghostlike, as if she’s standing in the shadows. Is she a hologram too? Hank studies her for a moment then nudges his dad. “Shall we take a look over there? These holograms are pretty cool.”

  Mervin gives Alain a smile. “Nice to meet you. Good luck with the soccer.” He acknowledges James and Laura with a nod, then says, “Lead on, son. Lead on.”

  CHAPTER 7

  STEWART ARRIVES AT THE BOARDROOM a full quarter of an hour early. He’s showered and shaved, and changed his clothes, but he hasn’t had time for breakfast, and his stomach is hollow with hunger and tight with apprehension. He paces the floor, his footsteps ringing out on the polished parquet flooring, and each time he passes in front of the boardroom’s dark wooden door, he pauses, listening.