The Whisper of Stars

by Nick Jones

  Who the hell is David Shaw, and what the fuck is he doing in my kitchen?

  She switched her augmentation off and pulled a white grenade from her hold-all. She flicked the pin and watched as four tiny lights blinked out.

  Three.

  Two.

  Jen tossed it over the balcony. The men saw it roll on the ground and braced for an explosion that never came. She pinched her eyes shut, an intense flash revealing thin red veins across her eyelids. The grenade was a pulse generator, military issue and banned for use outside sanctioned war zones. It created a huge power surge and a brilliant light, rendering all active technology useless. Mind links, scanners, thermal imagers, retinals – anything unprotected would be fried. There was also the added benefit of temporary blindness and concussion for anyone within range.

  Jen popped her head over the balcony and saw three men out cold. Her vision danced red and gold, bouncing blobs of colour fighting for the centre spot. She slipped down the stairs, blinking and shaking her head. The effects of the grenade wouldn’t last long. She needed to get out of there, quickly, but first she needed to identify her random visitor.

  As she approached the kitchen door she could see a faint aura, like flickering oil emanating from the doorway. The Histeridae’s effects were still active and she could feel that creeping sense again, as if her mind were reaching out and searching. It was a lot weaker than at Mac’s. She guessed the power faded over time and wondered if the power would return if she touched it again.

  Her experience with Mac had been unpleasant and invasive, but the knowledge – Mac wasn’t to be trusted – had been invaluable. Hearing and feeling the inner workings of a mind wasn’t natural; it felt wrong, especially when it was someone you cared about. She decided against the Histeridae. She would do this the old-fashioned way.

  ‘Mr Shaw,’ she said loudly. ‘Step out with your hands raised.’

  She repeated it, adding a final warning. The handle turned and the man walked forward, hands raised.

  ‘Don’t shoot,’ he pleaded, looking around at the three men lying on the floor, his arms shaking. ‘Jesus. Who are they?’

  ‘Never mind them, what are you doing here?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, lowering his arms, ‘for breaking in.’

  Jen hiked her eyebrows and flicked her gun. The man’s arms shot back up. He was either a very polite burglar or an unusually well-spoken Government agent. She wasn’t in the mood for bumbling apologies.

  ‘I asked you what you were doing here.’

  ‘My name is David Shaw,’ he replied. ‘And I’m investigating a murder.’

  ‘And what does that have to do with me?’ Jen asked through gritted teeth.

  ‘Honestly, I don’t know, but you’re somehow linked to…’ He squinted and shook his head. ‘I’m here about Project Histeridae. Does that mean anything to you?’

  Jen stepped back. How could this man know anything about the Histeridae? Project Histeridae? Her mind was racing, but there was no time to think. Mr Random had managed to break into her apartment, so he was skilled – but there was something strange about him, an innocence that didn’t match his appearance. He was well built, looked tough but was shaking, scared and out of his depth. There were a lot of questions, but one thing she was sure of: he wasn’t connected to the team of men scattered on the floor around them.

  The wail of the building’s fire alarm mixed with the sound of people moving through corridors snapped her out of her thoughts. Jen considered her options. There had been gunshots, fire alarms, and now the thrum of distant sirens. Not exactly what she had in mind for her ‘in and out’ operation. She couldn’t leave Mr Random here. He knew something about the Histeridae.

  ‘Come on,’ she shouted impatiently, already moving.

  ‘What?’ Shaw replied. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘You’re coming with me.’ She turned to face him. ‘Unless you have a better idea?’

  Shaw looked at the three men on the floor. ‘You got any more of those things?’ he asked, meaning the grenades.

  ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I’ve got something much better.’

  Chapter 26

  Jen strode ahead without looking back, unsure what to make of the man. Was he smart enough to know he should be scared? They were in serious trouble. But there was something niggling at her, something distant. It was as if, all along, she had been waiting for him to turn up like a missing piece.

  ‘Why are they after you?’ Shaw asked, struggling to keep up.

  ‘Why were you in my apartment?’ Jen retorted, fed up with his incessant questioning. ‘What were you looking for?’

  ‘I was planning to bug it, but someone beat me to it.’

  Jen stopped abruptly, grabbed his jacket and tugged him close to her face. ‘If I had met you a week ago, you would be under arrest,’ she snapped. ‘So I will ask you once more, why were you in my apartment?’

  Shaw looked down, nodding, and answered quickly. ‘I’m investigating a murder. The victim knew something about Project Histeridae, and she was killed for mentioning your father’s name.’

  The sound of sirens was louder now, and people were clogging the corridors. Jen processed at speed. This man knew about her father and the Histeridae.

  She said, ‘Just stay close and shut up.’

  ‘I wouldn’t use your tech, by the way.’

  ‘I get it,’ Jen hissed.

  They continued until they reached the end of the corridor. The fire alarm wasn’t as loud here, and a group of people blocking the stairwell seemed relaxed. She raised her gun and fired three times into the ceiling. Shaw reeled backwards, his hands pressed against his ears, as the crowd screamed and dispersed. The doorway was clear within seconds.

  ‘Let’s go,’ Jen said coolly.

  They reached the third floor and walked out onto the now-quiet corridor.

  ‘What are we doing?’ Shaw asked.

  ‘The gunshots will have given them our last location. That’s good. Now, they will expect us down there.’ She nodded to the ground floor. ‘We need to find a better way out.’

  She began searching. The long corridor at the side of the building was lined with windows. She lifted one and looked out. There was a fire escape, straight down – too obvious. Then she saw the adjacent building and climbed out onto the railings.

  ‘Oh, come on!’ Shaw cried.

  She popped her head back through the open window.

  ‘You want to stay here?’ she snarled. ‘Fine.’

  The sirens were outside now, accompanied by the sound of loud hailers and footfall. Shaw sighed and followed her awkwardly through the window.

  Jen mentally calculated the jump. From the fire escape, which traveled down the side of the building, they could push off and land on a flat-roofed section of the building opposite. The gap between buildings was small, the difference in height maybe eight or nine feet. She wouldn’t have hesitated to leap if she had been alone. The weather was cold but clear and dry; that would help.

  ‘Like jumping off a swing,’ she said simply.

  The drop between the buildings might only be a few feet, but the road below was over forty.

  ‘You’ll make it.’ She stepped over the railings, hunched down and executed the jump perfectly. A strong push, easy landing, forward roll and she was up again facing him.

  ‘Come on, jump,’ she shouted.

  She realised, watching him standing there, his face white, how quickly she was having to adapt. A few short weeks ago she was a Duality police officer, enforcing a system she fervently believed in. Now, she was helping a man she had just caught breaking into her apartment escape from a building. Her building. She was on the run. She was being hunted.

  ‘You can do it,’ she shouted, knowing they didn’t have long, knowing he might hold information that could help her.

  He climbed over the railing, closed his eyes and pushed off from the fire escape at an awkward angle. Jen could see he wasn’t going to m
ake it before his feet even left the metal. He landed, his stomach banging hard against the side of the building, feet dangling just over the edge. Shaw panicked, scratching at the gravel, his feet kicking against the wall below, calling for help. Jen ran, grabbed him and eventually pulled him up. He coughed, kneeling on the ground, breathing rapidly, trying to compose himself.

  ‘Thank you,’ Shaw managed.

  Jen ran to the opposite side of the rooftop and looked down onto the street. She recognised the street below, reset her bearings and made her way towards a maintenance door. The door was locked. She stepped back and blasted the lock twice.

  They descended the stone steps quickly and emerged in a basement car park. It was filled with auto-cars, the odd one pulling away to collect distant, demanding commuters.

  ‘How are we going to get out of here?’ Shaw asked, his voice still trembling from the jump.

  Jen nodded into the distance. There, parked near an exit ramp was her bike. She walked, he followed. She began replaying the last ten minutes in her head. The men, the grenade, finding him in her apartment.

  ‘They’ll know who you are by now,’ she said.

  ‘How?’

  ‘There are cameras all over my building.’

  ‘I disabled those before I went in,’ Shaw said, almost as an aside.

  Jen stopped and looked him slowly up and down. ‘What are you, some kind of hacker?’

  ‘No. Well yes. Some kind of hacker I suppose. I teach people how to stop them. Well, at least that’s –’

  ‘Get down,’ Jen whispered, pushing him and pointing towards a cluster of parked cars. ‘Hide, over there.’

  In the distance a figure walked down the exit ramp, silhouetted against bright sunlight, gun tracking. Jen pushed Shaw into the shadows, then ran, pressing herself against a large concrete pillar. She was too late.

  ‘Don’t move!’ The man shouted, tucking himself behind a row of cars. She leant around and listened. He didn’t verbally communicate with his team, and she hoped – because of the pulse grenade – they had been ordered to disable all comms in case of another blast.

  What now, Jen? Shoot your way out? Then what?

  A second man crept up behind her. ‘Hands in the air.’

  She knew there was no point trying to spin and shoot him. She thought of the Histeridae and wondered how often she could use it.

  ‘Gun on the floor.’ The man inched forward. ‘Do it.’

  She placed her gun down, raised her arms and turned. The Histeridae was in her rucksack. Too far to reach. The gloomy car park brightened suddenly, not by much, but it was noticeable, a bloom of radiance. She had thought about touching the Histeridae’s surface, imagined its energy pulsing though her. She thought of it again, and as she did the colours returned, vibrant and heavily saturated.

  A feeling began in her gut. It traveled up her hips and out through her shoulders, bringing with it images and fragments of light, joining them together, creating a singular flickering halo around the man in front of her. Blues, purples and reds shimmered and danced around his outline. Jen could see a spinning tunnel of light pulsing between their minds. She was connected to him and saw his expression change, felt his breath quicken as he struggled to keep his gun raised. She could feel his will, battling her own, a very different sensation to Mac’s. This man was attempting to push her back, to fight her.

  They were mentally at war.

  He wanted to shoot her, to put her down. Jen felt nauseous and realised, with horror, that she was losing the battle. She felt herself physically shaking, panic gripping her. The man had raised his gun again. She gave it everything but it was impossible.

  He was going to fire, and there was nothing Jen could do to stop him.

  Chapter 27

  Time slowed to a near standstill, the Histeridae allowing her longer to process the situation, to realise she was in trouble. Connected with her assailant, wrestling with his mind, Jen tried one last time to get him to lower his gun. In the end, all she managed was to move his hand a fraction to the left as he fired.

  The bullet shot just past her right temple.

  Jen seized her chance, grabbed her gun and fired back. The white blast lifted the man off his feet, dumping him hard onto the concrete. The man who had originally spotted them had relaxed slightly. That was a mistake. From a distance he fired but was too slow. Jen dropped onto her left knee, fired back and deposited him awkwardly onto the bonnet of a nearby car. He slid down, crunching to the floor. Shaw crept out of the shadows.

  ‘Jesus, are they dead?’

  ‘No,’ Jen crouched, checking the nearest man over. ‘Just stunned.’

  ‘Should we take their guns?’

  ‘They’re DNA-linked and tracked. Useless.’

  She noted his use of we, walked past him and examined the wall.

  ‘What are you looking for?’ His voice was shaking.

  ‘This,’ she replied, pulling a chrome-plated dart from the wall. ‘Silent and instant. They attack the nervous system; if they pierce your skin you can’t move. Very effective.’

  ‘At least they aren’t trying to kill you,’ Shaw offered.

  Jen was certain it would only be a matter of time.

  Shaw frowned. ‘He had you dead-on. I could see his hands shaking. How could he miss you?’

  Jen ignored the question. ‘You need to get out of here.’

  ‘What?’ he said. ‘After all that, you can’t… you can’t just leave me.’

  She turned to face him. ‘Until about ten minutes ago I didn’t even know you, so yes, I can leave you.’ She sighed. ‘And besides, I can’t trust you, David Shaw. If that’s even your real name. I can’t trust anyone.’

  ‘But what about Project Histeridae?’ he pleaded. ‘Maybe we can help each other. Share information. Figure this out.’

  ‘Look, we can meet up again, talk more, but for now you’re going to slow me down.’ She paused a beat. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘I told you I was investigating a murder.’

  Jen nodded, but her attention was elsewhere.

  ‘It was my wife,’ he said quietly. ‘They killed my wife.’

  Jen looked back at him. ‘I’m sorry. I truly am. But I’ve got bigger problems to worry about right now. I’m better off alone.’

  ‘The minute you use any technology, they’ll find you,’ he said quickly. ‘I could help, keep you under the radar.’

  Jen had started to walk away but stopped. She looked him up and down again, considering her options. He had managed to disable the cameras in her apartment building. She knew better than anyone that if the Government wanted to find her, they would. Maybe she could use him. Either way, this was all taking too long.

  ‘Okay. Listen,’ Jen said. ‘We leave here separately.’ She almost accessed her neural network to send him the address but stopped. Not using mind interfaces would take some adjustment. ‘Go to 46 Ladbroke Grove, Notting Hill. Ask for Thomas and then wait for me.’

  She didn’t like involving Thomas. It was a risk, a weak plan, but it was all she could think of given the time.

  ‘You’ll be there?’ Shaw asked.

  ‘Yes.’ She was off and running. I hope so.

  They were nearly at her bike when three more men appeared. They ducked down. Jen thought it through. She might make it up and out onto the street, but outrunning the police was almost impossible once they had a sighting. She could use the Histeridae, but then what? Up there would be more police, an endless stream. She couldn’t control them all.

  She turned and looked at Shaw.

  This man she had only just met. He looked back at her, the fear in his eyes obvious and real. He clearly had no idea what to do. As if on cue, the vapour-like tendrils appeared again, creeping towards Shaw’s head. If she willed it, they would encase him, revealing his aura, and she would hear his thoughts, find out for sure if she could trust him. Before she had time to think, she asked him a simple question, deep below the surface of consciousness. She asked if
she could trust him, if his intentions were good. The most basic of questions.

  The answer came, not as words but as a feeling like a heaving swell of deep water. This man wasn’t with Mac or Zitagi or any Government agency. He was like her, alone and vulnerable and against people like them. The Histeridae delved deeper and Jen could feel her questions probing further into his mind.

  She stopped, the tendrils pulling back suddenly like delicate silk in a freak gust of wind. The men were closing in; she had no time or chance to focus. That was reason enough not to use it, but there was another: this new power, this invasive ability to enter people minds, was scary and most certainly unethical. She wanted to be careful, didn’t want to abuse it. She had found out enough. She could, for now at least, trust him.

  Shaw was pointing, his face like ash. She followed his finger line and saw a heli-droid, about the size of a dinner plate, skimming past the three figures. It would begin scanning the area any second, and it was armed. Her decision was made. She tugged the rucksack from her back and faced him.

  ‘You need to take this,’ she whispered.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Just don’t lose it. It’s what they’re after.’

  He pushed it back, shaking his head. ‘Then I don’t want it.’

  ‘It’s too late to decide what you want. Take it to 46 Ladbroke Grove and tell Thomas I sent you.’ She began creeping around the car.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  She glanced back at him. ‘They don’t know who you are, they haven’t seen you. I will draw them in. When they follow me, wait a few minutes and then walk out. Don’t look back and don’t run. Just walk out. Okay?’

  Shaw nodded reluctantly. In the distance a red laser projected out from the heli-droid. The beam spread, triangular, from floor to ceiling and the droid began its sweep.

  ‘Then will you tell me what the hell is going on?’ Shaw asked.

  ‘Yes,’ she assured him, crawling towards her bike. ‘If you make it, I’ll tell you everything I know.’

  The men spotted her first. The droid stopped its scan, locked onto her and flew, its speed frightening. Jen made it to her bike, jumped on and started it up. With a high-pitched screech of tyres she rode straight towards the group of men. They scattered as the droid took aim. She squinted, concentrating. She would have to rely on her ability to aim manually. In her younger days she would spend hours shooting manually at the range but had backed off in the last couple of years. There just didn’t seem much point in practicing.