Black Knight

by Andy Briggs

  “I feel sick, sir. Can I sit down?” Dev massaged life back to his earlobe.

  Crapper stared at him for a long moment. It was no secret Dev hated PE and had worked his way through a steady stream of excuses over the years. Eventually the teacher nodded and Dev scurried away to the toilets where he intended to remain for the rest of the lesson.

  It was lunchtime when Mason finally caught up with Dev in the canteen. Dev was, as usual, eating alone, and right now he was absently rolling a small ball on the table as he stared through the window. After a quick look around to check none of their classmates were near, Mason leaned on Dev’s table and spoke in a low voice.

  “Sorry about the football.”

  “Forget it,” said Dev without looking up.

  “Just, you know, keeping up appearances.” Mason and Dev had never been friends in school, and they still wouldn’t be, if it wasn’t for Mason finding his way into the Inventory. Now, however, they were comrades in arms who had repeatedly saved one another’s lives in their secret roles working for the World Consortium.

  Mason couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face. “Plus, you looked totally spaced out, so it was too good an opportunity to miss.”

  Not so much comrades, thought Dev, more frenemies. He hadn’t told anybody about a gadget he had acquired while on an adventure in Hong Kong. It was a small TelePath that clipped behind his ear and allowed him to speak telepathically to others. The only problem was that it started to broadcast memories direct into his brain – and they were not his memories, but those of an eccentric Chinese scientist called Professor Liu, whom Dev had met shortly before Hong Kong was accidentally destroyed. Liu had been instrumental in building the new Inventory. Sometimes it was like having his own thoughts hijacked as Professor Liu’s swamped his brain with such clarity that Dev couldn’t distinguish between his own memories and those of the now-deceased inventor.

  What was more alarming was to recall memories at the most inopportune times and, more worryingly, when he wasn’t wearing the TelePath. It was as if the device had uploaded specific memories straight into his brain.

  Mason snapped his fingers. “Dev? You’ve zoned out again, mate.”

  Dev saw the concern in Mason’s eyes, so he forced a smile. “I’m fine. Just haven’t been sleeping much.”

  That much was true. Several months had passed since their last encounter with the Collector and Double Helix. Dev, Mason and Lot had been zigzagging around the world recovering hundreds of various items from the thousands that had been stolen from the Inventory. Fortunately, most had been minor gadgets and gizmos found by ordinary people who had no clue what it was they had discovered and readily returned the items for a small cash reward. However, the frequency with which the World Consortium was detecting them was rapidly increasing and everybody was run off their feet.

  “What’ve you got there?” asked Mason, automatically reaching for Dev’s hand and snatching the ball out before he could react.

  “Give it back,” snapped Dev, which only prompted Mason to hold it further away.

  “It’s just a rubber ball,” said Mason, disappointed it wasn’t something more interesting.

  “I found it during that last mission. Remember those guys who had found a stash of Freeze-Bombs?” Dev saw Mason shudder at the memory of nearly being frozen to death. “One of them had it on him. At first I thought it was just a bouncy ball. My synaesthesia didn’t detect any electronics, but it appears to have some chemically triggered mass-increase abilities…”

  Dev trailed off as he caught sight of Lot through the window. She was talking to Nathan Fielder, the boy with hair that appeared to have a will of its own and never failed to look cool. All the girls whispered as he walked past, throwing him sickening puppy-dog eyes. But Lot wasn’t talking to him, she was being talked to – and Dev was disappointed to see that she was smiling as she clutched her books tighter to her chest.

  Lot and Dev had become firm friends during their adventures. She was funny, if a little reckless (a trait she had inherited from her father, who was an air force test pilot), and had a ridiculously infectious smile had made everybody around her feel good. And right now Nathan Fielder looked as if he was feeling good as he hooked his arm around her shoulder. Dev was so preoccupied with what was happening outside he didn’t react as Mason threw the ball back, first deliberately bouncing it hard off the table.

  The ball hit the surface with such unexpected force that the plastic-veneered wood cracked. Dev ducked, the ball rushing past his sore ear and ricocheting off the wall, taking a fist-sized chunk of plaster with it.

  “What’s happening?” said Mason as the ball smashed through another plasterboard wall, causing a group of pupils close by to scream with fright. The ball struck a steel girder, buckling it, before ploughing into the floor with such power it formed a crater half a metre in diameter – before finally bouncing straight up, through the ceiling.

  The sound of rending metal shook the room. Dev was the first to react, pulling Mason’s arm as he ran for the door.

  “Everybody out!”

  The trickle of plaster and dust from the ceiling became a torrent as people fled the canteen. The last dinner lady, her wiry hair poking from her ripped hairnet, sprinted from the single-storey building as it collapsed on itself.

  The last thing Dev saw was Fielder with his arms wrapped protectively around Lot – before a cloud of dust rolled across the school yard, obscuring the upsetting scene…

  “And you don’t recall just which pupil was playing with the ball?” asked Charles Parker, his eyes boring into Dev, Mason and Lot in turn as they sat in the kitchen of the farmhouse where Dev had grown up.

  Lot raised her hand. “Again, for the record, I didn’t see anything. I wasn’t even in the room.”

  “No, you were too busy gawping at Nathan Fielder,” muttered Dev quietly.

  Lot frowned. “What?”

  Dev ignored her and met his uncle’s gaze. He knew looking away would just increase his uncle’s suspicions. “Like I said, we have no idea. We just saw the ball bouncing across the canteen and could tell it was moving oddly.”

  Dev had pleaded with Mason not to reveal that he taken the ball to school, rather than hand it in, like they should with all evidence after a mission. At first Mason had no wish to lie – he knew it would land him in big trouble – so Dev rattled him by pointing out it was Mason who had thrown the ball and caused the destruction.

  Charles sighed, then his eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Well, fancy that. A gizmo landed in our own backyard. It was a Wrecking-Ball, built by the fine folks who created the Hyper-Ball.”

  “They had some balls,” grinned Mason – but fell silent under Charles’s stern gaze.

  “I thought it looked familiar,” said Dev. He had used a Hyper-Ball when the thieves had broken into the complex.

  “Except in this case its mass increased with every bounce…”

  “And it demolished the school,” finished Lot.

  “Only the canteen,” said Mason, a little too defensively.

  Dev quickly spoke up when he saw his uncle’s brow furrow again. “At least it got us a week off school while they check for structural problems.”

  Was that a look of disappointment on Lot’s face, or was he imagining it? Surely she couldn’t be so upset by missing school. Unless she was missing … somebody else.

  “Well, that is fortunate timing, at least,” said Charles as he stood and walked to the kettle as it came to the boil.

  “Why? Do we have another mission?” asked Lot, the old glimmer of excitement in her eyes.

  “Sort of.” He paused to make a cup of tea, leaving the others exchanging curious glances. Only when he finished adding the milk did he continue. “As you are aware, we have been detecting more artefacts recently, running us all off our feet. So the World Consortium has decided it is time to expand. We are taking on new recruits.”

  The sound of his spoon tapping on the edge of his cup rem
inded Dev of a bell at the end of a boxing match. His mind reeled. “Recruits? To do what?”

  “Retrieve the stolen technology.”

  Lot huffed, clearly not liking the idea. “But that’s our job.”

  Parker nodded. “Yes. And you have proved to be very efficient … for the most part. Since you put Shadow Helix out of action for a while, our recovery rate has increased, as today proves. And you can’t be everywhere.”

  “I don’t like it,” said Dev testily. “Sounds like a badly thought-out idea to me.”

  Charles sniffed, a habit when he was about to become pompous. “I’m not asking you to like it, Dev. I am telling you what is happening. The World Consortium runs this place. They make the rules.”

  Mason stood up and began pacing the kitchen, unhappy with the news. “How come we never get to see the World Consortium? How come they make decisions but never ask us? We should go down there and complain. Wherever there is,” he added after a moment.

  “My, my, you are full of questions today, Mason. They evidentially trust you three to train up the recruits, so you should be thankful for that.”

  “We’re delighted,” said Dev sarcastically.

  Lot shook her head, knowing that bickering would get them nowhere. “OK, it’s obviously going to happen no matter what we think. My question is when … and who?”

  Charles nodded approvingly. “Astute as ever, Lottie.” He didn’t notice her cringe when he used her full name. “‘When’ is right now. Sergeant Wade has been coordinating the recruitment drive and the ‘who’… well, I am rather interested in finding that out myself.”

  The roar of the crowd was distracting.

  Wan-Soo knew he should be appreciative of it, but the seriousness of the task at hand forced him to ignore the cheers and stamping feet. He took a long breath through his nose and allowed his mind to enter an almost meditative state as his hands renewed their grip on the equipment.

  His end goal was in sight. All he had to do was flush his target out of hiding, line up the gunsight and squeeze the trigger. He tossed a smoke grenade, which bounced off the wall before exploding. It was enough to send his victim running straight into his line of fire.

  Wan-Soo’s finger twitched. He heard the gunshot report and saw the bloody red stain on his target’s head, before her body crumpled to the floor.

  He closed his eyes and became aware the crowd’s volume increased. Remembering protocol, Wan-Soo stood up and turned to the adoring people before him. From his vantage point on the stage he could just about see the thousand-strong crowd if he squinted against the powerful spotlights. He turned to his competitor, who was hunched over her computer with her head in her hands, unhappy with defeat. He bowed to her – then raised his fist to the audience, causing them to whoop with joy.

  The excited voice of an unseen MC echoed through the arena, confirming Wan-Soo’s victory in the eSports semi-final.

  The next few moments were a blur as Wan-Soo was escorted from the stage by his manager, a well-built Korean man with silver hair. Wan-Soo thought of him as an aggressive pit bull, a man who seldom backed down without a fight. Despite his fearsome reputation, he was beaming with childish pride as he escorted the boy towards the back exit of the TV station.

  “Well done! One more match and you become the world eSports champion! A stunning achievement!”

  They were both thinking of the million-dollar cash prize as they exited the studio and got into the back of a waiting limousine that drove them out into the neon streets of Seoul.

  Wan-Soo could barely believe how his fortunes had changed since he’d become a professional gamer. He’d gone from an orphan to a superstar the moment he had turned eighteen.

  eSports was a big business in South Korea, attended by huge crowds of adoring fans who enjoyed watching the games unfold just as much as they loved the players. Big corporate sponsors lined up to lavish players with money, and there were even two television stations that broadcasted live gaming events. Here, gaming was a serious business.

  Despite his victory, Wan-Soo didn’t wear his emotions on his sleeve, unlike his manager who was sat on the seat facing him and already on the phone to his sponsors to relay the good news and demand more money from them.

  Wan-Soo gazed thoughtfully out of the window as the continuous row of skyscrapers passed by. After several minutes, he pulled his mobile phone out and started playing a platform game he’d downloaded from the internet. It was crude in comparison to the first-person shooter he played professionally, but he enjoyed the fiendishly difficult puzzles that were presented to him.

  He was so engrossed in the game that he didn’t notice the car had stopped in a dark street. It took him a moment to realize they had parked on a jetty on the banks of the Han River.

  “Why have we stopped?”

  His manager leaned forward wearing an uncharacteristically anxious expression. “We received an offer.”

  “What kind of offer?”

  “One that is very difficult to say no to.”

  Wan-Soo frowned – then his head snapped around as the car door was opened from the outside and a pale American woman climbed in and sat next to him.

  “Hello, Wan-Soo. You and I have something very important to discuss.”

  “That will be a hundred and sixty dollars,” said the sales clerk with a bright smile, although she couldn’t hide the contempt in her eyes as a twelve-year-old brat was buying more expensive clothing than she could afford even after working crazy hours for an entire week.

  Aaron Lerner swiped his credit card through the machine and noticed the flicker of genuine delight on the clerk’s face.

  “I’m sorry,” she said with barely contained glee, “it didn’t go through. Maybe your mom blocked it?”

  “I’ll try it again,” said Aaron as he wiped the magnetic strip on the back against his coat. “The strip’s probably dirty.”

  He swiped the card again. The machine beeped as it accepted the transaction. The smile faded from the clerk’s face as she handed him his bag. “Have a nice day,” she said with as much venom as she could.

  Aaron flashed a smile and ran a hand through his short blond hair. “Oh, I will. And it has already started out as a great day too.” He winked at her as he left. “Enjoy your day in here.”

  As he exited into the main shopping mall he was sure he heard the clerk swear under her breath. He stopped at a bench and checked his phone. It was running an app he had created. It had taken him a whole weekend but had already earned him more money than he could have hoped for.

  He scrolled through a stream of credit card numbers the app had just harvested. Their combined value was forty thousand dollars at least, and Aaron mused on what he could buy for that.

  He took his own credit card from his wallet and inspected it for damage. From a casual look, the card seemed no different from any other. It was, however, a little thicker and heavier, and Aaron worried it might get damaged when swiped. Already it sported several scratches that had flaked the paint off the fake bank logo, but the electronics he’d put together inside were still protected.

  The moment he swiped the card it had talked to the store’s till, obtained a list of credit cards that had been used that day, and copied them. When Aaron had wiped the card on his sleeve, he had in fact passed it over his smart watch. The data had wirelessly copied to his watch, which in turned synced to his phone – so even if the card was lost, he still had the stolen data.

  “Genius,” he said to himself, causing a passing woman to frown at him.

  Not wanting to risk harming his invention, Aaron decided it was time to go home. He stopped for a milkshake, played a little on the new game he’d downloaded on his phone, then headed for the exit.

  That was when he became aware he was being followed.

  Walking past the security guard, he had tried to act as innocent as possible, but he still felt their suspicious gazes burn the back of his head. Then there was the other man who had been standing next
a pot of fake plants, who suddenly changed direction towards him. Aaron had seen him earlier peering into a shop window, but with the aid of his photographic memory, he realized the man was positioned so he could actually observe Aaron reflected in the glass.

  Undercover security.

  Aaron suddenly darted sideways – just as the uniformed security guard, who had been creeping up behind him, made a failed attempt to grab him. Aaron’s arms and legs pumped hard as he ran for the escalators. He was so fixed on his escape route that he didn’t see a second undercover guard rush him from the side until it was too late.

  The man tried to tackle Aaron, who threw his bags at him. It was enough of a distraction for Aaron to skirt around the man and run hell for leather.

  Now all three guards were in pursuit as he bounced down the steps two at a time, weaving through other shoppers.

  “Excuse me! Sorry!” he said as he ran down, this thumb scrolling through the apps on his phone. He found what he needed and activated another bespoke app – while at the same time vaulting over the rail just as it crossed the up escalator.

  Aaron’s timing was perfect. Even before he landed for his upward journey, the escalator he had been on suddenly reversed and picked up speed, causing everybody on it to shriek as they were thrown off balance as it accelerated them downwards at triple speed. He just had time to look back to see people falling flat on their faces at the bottom of the escalator, with others, the guards included, piling up on them in a mass of bodies.

  Aaron chuckled to himself as he doubled back to retrieve his bags. For good measure, he activated another app. Aaron had hacked into the mall’s security system before he entered. He could control the escalators, the lights and even the alarm system all from his phone. He liked to plan ahead, and it was always good to have an escape route.

  He activated the fire system and heard further yells from shoppers as the water sprayed out from numerous sprinklers across the mall. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he reached his dropped bags.