Black Knight

by Andy Briggs

  “So what secrets are being kept from me?”

  The smile on Eema’s emoji face turned into a cheeky grin, designed to make Dev feel as if this was all a game. “I don’t know what you know, and I don't know what you don’t know – so how am I supposed to know what you find secret?”

  Dev rolled his eyes. “Great. You sound just like my uncle.”

  “No, your uncle would sound just like this.” Her voice changed modulation to a perfect mimic of Charles Parker. “It’s time you went to bed and rested up. You’ve had a long day and tomorrow may be just as hectic.”

  “I’m not tired.”

  Eema frowned, her head inclining slightly.

  Dev threw up his arms. “OK, OK, fine.” He walked towards the exit, Eema rolling just behind him like a guard dog. He couldn’t resist a quick sidelong glance towards the damaged wall—

  And he gasped when he saw the door had returned. When he blinked the apparition – door and all – vanished. He felt a chill run down his spine. That wasn’t a memory, it was more like an hallucination.

  Once again, Dev began to wonder if the TelePath was really feeding him the old man’s memories … or was it driving him insane?

  Dev’s sleep was fitful at best. The incident in the Blue Zone kept coming back every time he closed his eyes. It was one thing to experience somebody else’s memories as they unfolded around him like an augmented reality game, but quite another to keep remembering somebody else’s memories as they mixed with his own. It was confusing at the very least. He couldn’t recall which he preferred: tea or hot chocolate, but he knew only one of them was his preference.

  Dev found his bedroom in the farmhouse was the only place he could truly unwind. He liked to be surrounded by the normal things a boy his age should be interested in: a few models from Star Wars, a shelf of books he’d read several times over, and some football posters of a team he’d never actually seen play. He must have catnapped during the night, as he woke with a start as the first rays of morning light streamed through his curtains.

  He sat up in bed, his hand sneaking under the pillow to retrieve the wallet Riya had pickpocketed from the thief. He scrutinized the photo on the driver’s license. It still looked tantalizingly familiar, although the name Klaus Tyker didn’t ring any bells. He surfed the net on his phone, searching for any references to the man, but those he found were obviously different people.

  Glancing at his watch, he saw it was too early for his uncle to be up yet – if he had returned – so Dev sprang out of bed, hurriedly got dressed and poked a toothbrush around his mouth. In the kitchen he ate a breakfast cereal bar as he waited for the wall behind the cooker to slide aside, revealing the secure elevator down into the Inventory.

  He was relieved to find the control bunker was still empty and set about entering Klaus’s driving licence details into the computer. The specialized World Consortium systems had back-door access to almost every computer database on the planet, so it was with some surprise that he found very little on Tyker.

  After twenty minutes of searching, all Dev could find was the licence plate of a motorhome he had bought eight years ago. The home address linked to his licence and vehicle no longer existed, and there were no electricity, phone or bank statements linked to him. It was as if Tyker did his very best to live off the grid: a life undetectable by the authorities, which made sense if he was a professional thief.

  Dev was about to give up when an image suddenly came through on a police database. It was a traffic camera photo of Tyker’s motorhome jumping a red light.

  Dev felt a tremor of excitement, as he enjoyed playing detective. A few clicks of the mouse and the location of the traffic camera appeared on a map, somewhere in Germany. While the vehicle could have travelled anywhere, Dev thought it was worth checking out the immediate area. While most people used internet maps that were months or even years out of date, Dev had access to the satellite system the public knew nothing about. A carefully placed network of tiny satellites were positioned so they could stream ultra-definition real-time video of almost any point on the planet. All he had to do was convince the computer system to do exactly what he wanted.

  He touched the control panel and allowed his synaesthesia to seep into the satellite system. The cyber world came alive in a fluorescent swirl of colours and shapes as he effortlessly bypassed security systems and urged the satellites to do his bidding. For Dev, it felt as natural as moving his fingers, yet within seconds he convinced hundreds of satellites to sweep a wide area around the traffic camera and report if they detected the motorhome, or at least anything matching the basic shape of it.

  It didn’t take too long to find a hit.

  Charles Parker was surprised when Dev hijacked the morning briefing with news that he had located the thief. When Charles had asked why the wallet hadn’t been handed in after the mission, Dev had caught Riya’s look of panic, and then claimed he had found it, but had simply forgot to give it in.

  While Charles double-checked Tyker’s identity, Lot leaned close to Dev.

  “You never found that wallet.”

  “Riya did. I just didn’t want her getting into trouble for nicking it.”

  Lot folded her arms and looked askance at Riya, who was animatedly talking to the others. Mason laughed loudly.

  “Sounds like you’re being quite protective of her.”

  Dev shrugged. “Of course.” He was confused as Lot’s brow knitted into a frown. “I thought we were a team. Aren't we supposed to protect each other?” He didn’t understand why Lot’s scowl deepened.

  “That’s not what I meant…” She stopped as Charles turned back from the screen.

  Dev could have sworn there was the briefest look of concern on his uncle’s face before he congratulated Dev on his detective work and readily agreed they should depart immediately to gather whatever tech Tyker had stockpiled.

  In the cramped Avro, Mason volunteered to sit in the back so he could talk to Riya, meaning Dev was sandwiched between Lot, who was no longer talking to him, and Aaron, who made noisy huffs every time Dev moved. The American was getting on his nerves.

  Dev was thankful when the Avro’s autopilot touched them down in a woodland clearing deep in Germany’s Black Forest region. They descended the ramp to a drizzly day, with low clouds clinging to the tops of the towering trees around them. The scent of pine was almost overwhelming.

  “Smells like my dad’s car,” muttered Mason. “So, what’s the plan, chief?”

  Dev gave him a questioning look. He wasn’t used to Mason being so chipper and gung-ho, and Mason certainly hadn’t called him chief before.

  “Um … the motorhome is that way. About a hundred metres. I suggest we circle around it, but stay hidden. We don’t want to spook this guy, and we don’t know how well-armed he is. Me and Lot will try and talk to him.”

  Lot arched her eyebrows as if to say, Will we?

  Armed with a variety of non-lethal weapons – from Net-Guns to Tasers – the team trudged through the forest in silence. They soon found the motorhome, exactly where the satellite photos had pinpointed it, parked in a small clearing at the end of a long, narrow dirt road. Tyker had taken the effort to ensure the vehicle was pointing back along the track, presumably for a fast getaway should the need arise.

  Lot and Dev knelt down behind a log as the others spread out around the clearing, keeping in contact via small earpieces. The motorhome itself was old and rusting. One window had been patched together with masking tape, and the front bumper and fender were buckled from multiple impacts. A pair of open-topped plastic barrels sat on top of the roof to catch rainwater, and a cable ran from the back of the vehicle to a small satellite dish strapped to the side of a tree.

  “This is exactly what a conspiracy nut would drive,” Lot huffed. “And if this is his home, then I don’t think he’s a particularly good thief.”

  “Oh, you’re talking to me now?”

  She ignored the comment, and they sat in silence for a
nother minute, until the rest of the team radioed that they were in position.

  “Ready?” said Dev, relieved to break the tense atmosphere.

  “Whatever you say, chief.”

  She turned and led the way to the motorhome, forcing Dev to trot after her. As they drew closer to the door, Dev began to wonder what they should do. He had expected alarms to sound the moment they entered the clearing, but instead all they could hear was music from inside the vehicle.

  “Shall we knock?”

  Lot tutted. “I don’t know. This was your idea. Maybe we should let the tyres down?”

  They stopped a few metres short of the vehicle and Dev shouted out. “Klaus Tyker! We know you’re in there!”

  The music stopped immediately, but there were no further signs of life. Dev tensed, expecting shots to be fired any second.

  “You’ve got something that belongs to us!” he shouted again.

  This time there was a response. Metal shutters suddenly slammed down from concealed recesses in the vehicle’s window frames and they heard the loud clunk of a heavy lock sealing the door. A moment later the engine roared to life with a throaty grumble. The motorhome might look like a rust bucket, but the engine purred like a cheetah.

  Lot shouted above the engine roar. “Surprise, surprise, he’s making a run for it! Told you we should have deflated the tyres!”

  “I thought you were being sarcastic!”

  They’d brought weapons to stun a person, not stop a vehicle. If the thief got away now, then there would be no stopping him. Dev darted forwards as the wheels spun in the mud, churning out a contrail of mud as the vehicle sluggishly accelerated.

  It was enough of a delay for Dev to close the gap and leap on to the running board leading to the door. His hand closed around the handrail, just as the vehicle finally found traction and shot forward. He clung on for his life.

  Lot shouted helplessly after him, “Dev!” Then she was forced to leap aside into the damp grass as the water butts toppled from the roof and crashed down either side of her.

  Mason stood up from his hiding place to watch the fleeing vehicle. He winced as the cable powering the satellite dish snapped taut next to his ear, yanking the dish from the tree – and straight for his head!

  He hit the deck, and the rush of air from the satellite dish passed so close it ruffled his hair. Any closer and he would have been decapitated.

  Dev’s wet trainers slid off the running board, and he dangled from the handrail with just one hand. His now-trailing feet were centimetres from the rear wheel. If he fell, he’d be run over.

  Fortunately, the metal handrail connected to the vehicle’s metal bodywork, enabling Dev to surge his synaesthesia through the motorhome – killing the engine.

  After covering thirty metres, the vehicle suddenly rolled to a quiet halt. Dev commanded the window shutters to open and the door to unlock before he let go and dropped into the mud.

  Lot was suddenly by his side, her face a mask of concern. “Dev? Are you OK?”

  He nodded, spitting out a mouthful of mud. From inside the vehicle they could hear the frantic clicks of the engine as Tyker attempted to turn it over. Eventually he gave in. The motorhome rocked slightly as he moved inside – then the door opened, revealing Klaus Tyker holding a baseball bat in a shaking hand. He regarded Dev and Lot with deep suspicion… then he recognized them.

  “You’re the kids from the Louvre.”

  Tyker’s eyes darted about, and he spotted Mason picking himself out of the dirt at the edge of the clearing.

  Tyker was sweating heavily. He renewed his grip on the bat as he yelled in German, which was automatically translated by their earpieces. “Who are you? What do you want?”

  “What you stole from us, Tyker,” said Dev. “And we’ve got you surrounded. But I want to talk, not fight.” Tyker regarded him them for a moment, his face settling into a deep scowl as he recognized Lot.

  “You almost choked me to death last night!”

  Lot smiled sweetly. “Well, at least it was almost.”

  “We just want to talk,” Dev assured him.

  Tyker’s head swivelled around as he scanned the forest. Then he reached a decision, nodded and disappeared inside. “Then you better enter. Only the two of you.”

  If they had thought the outside was a piece of junk, then the inside was most definitely a dump. The entire living area was filled with half a dozen laptops gaffer-taped to the walls and table to stop them from moving around. A rack of backup hard drives filled most of the kitchen area, and any other portion of space was filled with discarded pizza boxes and junk-food cartons.

  Lot almost choked on the smell as she entered. “What is that? Eau de Armpit?” she muttered to Dev.

  Tyker shoved a stack of junk off a bench. “Please sit down. We can at least attempt to be civilized, no?”

  He sat opposite, a laptop screen facing him and his fingers nervously tapping the table, and waited for them to sit. The fabric in the bench seemed to make a gentle farting-like noise as they lowered themselves down, and Dev swore it felt damp, but he refrained from commenting. They could clearly see Tyker was constantly anxious, his head turning at the slightest noise when the vehicle settled on its rusting suspension.

  “I’ll get to the point,” Dev said, not wishing to be in there any longer than necessary and trying not gag on the stale smell. “You bought several items on the dark web that were stolen from us.”

  “You work for the shadowy government, yes?”

  “It’s more of a private organization,” replied Dev, conscious that Tyker was typing as he spoke. “What are you doing?”

  “Making notes. My mind,” he tapped the side of his head, “is not what it once was.”

  “We’re jamming your telecoms, in case you’re thinking of calling in help.”

  Klaus gave a little sad chuckle. “I have got nobody to call. I am intrigued, how did you stop my vehicle’s engine?”

  Dev shifted in his seat. “That’s not important.”

  Lot winced as she licked her lips, and inadvertently tasted the smell lingering in the air. “We need those items back, and then we’ll leave you alone.”

  “But I bought them fairly.”

  “From an illegal website,” said Lot testily.

  “We’ll repay you what you spent, of course.”

  “I don’t need the cash. I have everything I need here.”

  Dev looked around the ramshackle home and nodded. “Terrific. Then hand over the tech and we’ll be on our way.”

  “Your way back to where?”

  Dev was about to answer, but stopped when Lot slammed the laptop lid down – almost trapping Tyker’s fingers. “Look, Klaus, this is not an interview. We want our property returned right now, or our friends outside will tear this place apart to find them.”

  Dev had never seen such a fierce look from her before. It was enough to make Tyker worried.

  “Please, I just want to talk to you. To find some answers. This organization you work for … it has vexed me for some time.” He reached under the seat and pulled out a thermal plastic picnic box. Inside he pulled out the Invisi-Cap and a small canister the size of a lipstick container. He saw their puzzled looks. “A short-range wormhole. It is very good. It brought me all the way back here. Saved me the trouble of getting the train.”

  Dev took the items and was surprised when Tyker continued placing gadgets on the counter. “A Hypno-Coin, I never got to use it,” he said wistfully. “And a Sonic-Whistle.”

  Lot examined the whistle closely. It looked like a regular metal whistle except for a small printed circuit underneath and two small air vents.

  Tyker smiled at her expression. “It is far more fun than it looks. You blow it, yes. But the sound is such a high frequency that it blows out the windows in a whole block radius. I was going to use it if I required a diversion to escape.”

  “And you got this all from the dark web?”

  Tyker nodded amiably. “That’
s when I knew your organization must be real.”

  “Exactly who do you think we are?”

  Tyker’s face darkened and he rubbed the layer of sweat forming on his temple. His hand trembled as he thought hard.

  “A company… I don’t know. I wish I knew. I think I did know. I am sure I had the answers at one time. Then…” He waggled his fingers indicating that they’d vanished from his head.

  “Was it an accident?” There was a trace of sympathy in Lot’s voice.

  “I don’t think an accident, no. I remember waking up … with nothing but the concept that the world around us was not all it seemed. It was as if I had discovered the secrets to the universe … but then somebody didn’t want me to know. Made me forget. Memories are a fragile thing.” He thumped his head with the palm of his hand.

  “Tell me about it,” muttered Dev. “So you’re trying to prove you were right?”

  Tyker nodded. “I fell off the grid, erased my footsteps so nobody would find me. Except you, evidentially. I travelled to wherever there were unusual sightings or stories that confirmed my suspicions. That is when I noticed that, no matter what the occurrence, people tended to ignore the strangeness of it all. Like what happened in Japan and Hong Kong last month. The media reported aliens. But the next day, they talked about something else, a celebrity affair, a small war somewhere – gave the public another reason, and they moved on and soon forgot. We are all being hypnotized by our televisions, by the news, by the internet.”

  Dev caught Lot’s eye. She waggled her eyebrows indicating she thought Tyker was a complete nutter. She slid the gadgets across the table and put them in her satchel.

  “Well, thanks for your time, Mister Tyker.”

  “Wait! Those other people in the Louvre. The logos.” He tapped his arm to indicated the Helix soldiers’ entwined symbol. “This means Shadow Helix, yes?”

  Dev froze and his expression gave it away. Tyker laughed and drummed his hands on the table so hard that Dev and Lot jumped.