I go to tell her about the golden threads but an instinctive sense of danger stops me. Centrian Security will record every word. Who else will they tell?
I prise myself off Ursula, who stares down into my sore eyes. She thinks if she does this long enough it is somehow empowering. It works on some people but not on me.
“Don’t do the eye thing,” I say.
“I will ease your pain,” Ursula booms.
“You really aren’t helping.”
She humphs and sits on the chair next to mine.
“If only,” I say, “he hadn’t been so amazing.”
“Yeah,” she says quietly and then brightens. “Anyway, look on the plus side. You got properly laid finally and…”
“What is this ‘finally’?”
“Shush. Plus you’ve still got your job and my wedding is going to be such a massive success that everyone will forget this bad luck.”
“Bad judgement, more like.”
“Charity, he was a professional. You didn’t stand a chance.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“It should.” Her eyes go steely. “Next time you’ll know.”
There’s a pause. I realise the subject is closed.
“How is everything?” I ask.
“Disaster!” Ursula says cheerfully. “My wedding is in two weeks and horrid weather is still clobbering profit. Fights between the Blanks and the Sons of the Crystal Mind hog so much attention in-Aer I wouldn’t be surprised if no one notices my gobsmacking nuptials at all.”
“You really aren’t worried are you?” I say.
“No,” says Ursula. “Now tell me you’ve got some ideas in that funny little head of yours, something exciting from your experience out in the real world.”
My head is comfortably empty so I rub my eyes to disguise a quick trawl through the ifarm. One message stands out. It’s from Bal.
Dear Charity
I hope you are better. I regret we were not able to discover Mr Akintan’s purpose sooner. We must therefore take responsibility for what happened.
I’m still concerned about Centria/VIA being out of touch and know you understand the problem better than most. I therefore have an idea to address the current bad weather.
Get Ursula to go outside Centria and actually meet people, which will reinforce the idea that she is one of them. We can use the meeting to generate interest and take the focus off the Blanks/Sons. Please call me to discuss details, location etc.
Finally and most importantly, I feel very bad about my actions at the party. I hope one day you will forgive me. I know this will take time but the way forward is to work together, if that is acceptable to you.
Yours
Balatar
I feel a strange mix of emotions: relief, gratitude, anger and above all frustration because I didn’t think of the meet and greet idea. I look at Ursula, who watches me expectantly.
“We need to get you out there,” I say.
“Me? There?”
“A meet and greet. Outside Centria.”
Ursula stares, astonished.
“Why not just mock it up here?” she says.
“No, it’s got to be authentic, or as close as we can manage,” I say and the words begin to tumble out as I think them. “We can have different kinds of people; the whole demographic spectrum, then have them on vix links so everyone will know it’s real. This will dominate the weather for weeks afterwards!”
“Will you be inviting the Blanks?” Ursula says.
For a moment I think she is serious.
“Do you mean we need to have very good security-?” I say.
“Yes I mean that!”
“Of course, everyone present will be screened…” I say.
“Screened until they are transparent Charity.”
“Right, yes.”
“Ellery will support us. Anton won’t.”
“Bal will take care of it,” I say.
I smile for the first time in days.
13
I lie back on the temporary bed in Ursula’s apartment with my eyes closed. I need a new social processing patent; my version has expired so the ifarm is full of nonsense and admin. I start to ask Ursula which one she uses and then remember she’s gone to record an ad for a year-life garment range.
I return to the ifarm, notice an unfamiliar name and open the message.
My beautiful darling Charity
What?
I thought long and hard about whether to send you this information for fear of endangering you.
The style is familiar; the formal diction, the long sentences.
But it seems you are in danger anyway and given that fact you would do well to have some idea of what you are up against, even though it is presently very hard to define.
They are after me, the very worst of them, and I won’t be able to fight them off forever. Sending this information has exposed me, which is why I have been silent until now. Forgive me for that.
Oh…
I have forwarded everything we discovered to you. It is not complete but may be enough to help. I wish I was there to protect you and Ursula and your mother too, but I fear I will do more harm than good. You will have to protect them for me my special girl.
I have persuaded someone from the Outer Spheres to send you this message so that Centria will not be alerted to my contact with you. The contents are in a newly patented format, which means that all anyone monitoring your ifarm will see is a set of statistics. Centria will not be able to decode these, or not immediately anyway, so work quickly.
There is so much I want to tell you but it’s safer for you this way. Please take care. I hope that solving this problem will also bring you the other answers you seek. You must believe me when I tell you that your mother and I have told you all we know.
Love always
Dad
I gasp in shock. Dad’s message blurs as hot tears rise and I strain to see through them while they trickle and cool. My heart feels dented; I rub my chest and breathe deeply. After a while it helps.
I open the first file, which consists of a hundred smaller ones. I hadn’t expected so many. I try and scan-read the information in the first file to determine a pattern but none of it sinks in. There are text files, formulae, recordings and accounts in a daunting accumulation of detail. I always thought a benefit of being an outsider was the resource to deal with anything on my own but as the great bulk of mysterious information hangs before me I wish there was someone I could talk to.
* *
My neck aches as I look at the long list of unread files again and sigh. My regular work has accumulated as I’ve gone through a quarter of the mission documents in chronological order. Some of the material is standard surveillance on a vix link; Dad will watch an area out in Diamond City, sometimes with no one in sight, for a couple of hours. Being an ex-soldier, he is able to point himself at an object or location and then not move until he or Mum is satisfied there is no further intelligence to be gleaned from it.
As Mum follows Dad, she analyses data. Surprisingly, the data is primarily financial and concerns transactions with a company in MidZone called Fulcrus. There is no explanation for why Fulcrus is of interest; the transactions involved are not large. I imagined the mission files would be a series of astonishing revelations but the only surprise is how ordinary their contents are.
I move my head to ease the discomfort and realise I’m so tense my body is rigid. I am still lying on my back on the bed in Ursula’s room and have barely moved since I saw Dad’s message. I sit up slowly and put my feet on the floor, which seems a long way away. I stand, sway slightly and stretch.
I know very well why I feel paralysed and what it is I don’t want to do.
As I nervously start to pace I finally decide to look at the last entry and see what happened to Mum. My poor heart goes so hard it actually hurts. I take a deep breath and consider having a drink but instead just access the file.
There is extraordinary strength in my arms and legs as I run at unfamiliar high speed down a long, diamond corridor. Aware of every movement around me, I am more scared than I have ever been. I don’t know the nature of the threat, only that it’s there.
I’m in a recording of a full-on vix link with Dad, dated ten days ago. Some vicarious links are audio-visual only but this one conveys what Dad feels as well. I hear his breath as he hears it, close and heavy, and feel the strain in his chest that warns this speed is not sustainable for long. I feel/hear a woman’s voice and it takes me a moment to recognise Mum.
MUM: Down the end and keep going.
DAD: How many?
MUM: Four.
DAD: How did they find out?
MUM: Unknown.
I don’t share Dad’s thoughts but I sense them through a series of emotional impressions as they affect his body. When Mum speaks for example, some of Dad’s visceral fear reduces, while another tension grows as he carries out her instructions. Behind the action is a sort of calm I can’t place at first but realise after a moment is trust.
Dad runs to the end of the corridor and across a gangway. I glimpse the dizzying drop either side before we race into a red building formed by five towers that curve up like a clawed hand. We must be somewhere in MidZone and judging by the light it’s day. People either side of Dad register as a series of surprised expressions as he pounds through a blue-lit tunnel under the building.
I’ve had vix links with soldiers before as part of my training but none were as fast and powerful as Dad. Perhaps the potency is down to my closeness to him, or maybe until now I only saw training as a way to impress my seniors. Whatever the reason, as I move with my father every sense is attuned in a way I have never managed before. I feel realignment in myself; a loosening of restrictions, as if Dad is giving me permission to use my own power. I remember the fight with the Blanks at Ursula’s party. I will not freeze next time.
Dad pulls out a fuze. It is reassuringly heavy.
MUM: Go through the wall on your left.
Dad’s grip on the fuze is firm and controlled as the weapon spits green fire. The wall becomes a cascade of disintegrated diamond lit with flickering emerald flame and we are through before the pieces reach the floor. Ow! The shrapnel burns; one piece actually sizzles. Dad grunts and suppresses the pain with sheer concentration. I’ll remember how to do that.
I feel his legs tense as he slows beside a mirrored panel on the wall. As he checks himself over his familiar profile jolts a little cry out of me. He’s got intense blue eyes in an otherwise expressionless face, cropped blond hair and a discretely muscular, agile body. His outfit is combat gear disguised as the scruffy clothes a sub would wear. Some of it smoulders so Dad yanks it off to reveal burns over his chest and shoulders. He hurls the clothes away and looks around.
We are in a large triangular chamber with a slightly curved far wall that forms part of the circular base of the red towers. The wall we broke through is between two of the twenty customised immersion booths evenly spaced around the perimeter, while the entire floor is a pulsating advert for the child pornography experience you can apparently only get here. Dad tuts in disgust and begins to run across the chamber.
MUM: Er…
DAD: Julie?
MUM: There’s no coverage in here. Stop!
Dad halts and the view swings as he looks around until he sees the chamber entrance in a wall on the far side. The entrance is empty but Dad watches it fixedly. The only sound is his breathing.
A man and a woman sprint into the entrance. They snap rifles to their shoulders and focus the barrels at Dad/me. I forget this is a vix link, shout in panic and wave my arms uselessly. Dad fires his fuze at the man and woman, who duck back through the entrance out of sight. Dad shoots through the wall to get at them-
MUM: Back!
The view jerks as Dad changes direction. Flesh between my shoulders prickles in anticipation of a shot but I can no longer tell if it’s me or Dad who feels it. The wall we broke through has begun to regrow itself and the top rises as Dad gets closer. He leaps through the closing gap headfirst and for a moment we fly.
Dad catches a toe on top of the wall and tumbles down the other side. I feel a terrific muscular clench in his stomach as he kicks away to turn himself in midair and land lightly on his feet.
MUM: Grab the dekpak and go over the side.
Dad turns back towards the gangway. Growing out of the floor nearby is a disc about thirty centimetres across attached to a harness. Everyone in the area has wisely kept out of sight except two ragged-looking men who approach the descent pack eagerly.
DAD: GET THE FUCK AWAY OR I WILL
WASTE YOU!
He fires over their heads. One freezes in shock, the other bumps into him and then they flee. Dad snatches up the dekpak and looks back the way he came, where a wall explodes into a glittering scarlet cloud. I gasp in fear but Dad doesn’t as the pursuing man and woman run through the dissipating debris.
Dad races for the gangway but two men with rifles run across the other end of it. There is something familiar about them…
Streamlined, fit and fast, they have the dynamic concentration of soldiers. They fire at Dad, who dives to one side. The floor speeds closer, the view twisting suddenly as Dad lands and turns.
Rifle fire zips past, partially demolishing the base of a red tower. Screams echo as parts of the building fragment and crash to the floor, forcing the man and woman to jump back out of the way.
Dad slides across the floor, snatches up the dekpak and shrugs it on. As the harness lashes itself to his chest Dad is up again so fast I barely register the movement of his muscles.
MUM: Circular corridor to your left.
DAD: The-?
MUM: Around the building edge.
DAD: Tower’s collapsing.
MUM: No it’s not.
A thick diamond column grows out of the floor to reach the gaping cavity in the red tower, which stops swaying. Another shot misses Dad but is so close I feel it burn him. He sprints down the circular corridor and snatches a look behind but the curve of the wall masks him from his pursuers.
He turns his entire body around mid-run, slows to a halt and moves closer to the central wall. Holding the fuze out with both hands he keeps his shoulders relaxed and his breathing regular. He is utterly calm.
One of the men from the gangway runs into sight, all determination and lethal energy. Dad blows the man’s head off but his body keeps running for a couple of steps and I can still see his face although it’s just a memory.
For a second there is no blood and then it begins to pour down the man’s chest and shoulders. His legs fold but he doesn’t let go of his weapon, which lands with a light tap as if he is still looking after it. The body thumps wetly to the floor and blood spreads with shocking speed. There is no sign of the other man from the gangway as the one on the floor is absorbed into it. For a moment the gleaming red sheet of his blood remains, then it dilutes to transparency and finally nothing.
MUM: Keep going away from the gangway.
The view jolts as Dad runs down the corridor. He stops at a crossroads with an entrance corridor in one direction and a tunnel through the building base in the other. At the end of the tunnel is a five-way intersection, blue lit with a slow-spinning holomap of Diamond City that looks like a giant crystal ball.
MUM: Stay there and let them see you.
Dad stands at the end of the corridor. His heart begins to pound and so does mine. In the curved corridor across from him a diamond wall grows to the ceiling. Another one grows about three metres behind it and the space between them fills with transparent liquid.
The man and woman run around the corner into the five-way intersection.
MUM: Go back six metres.
Dad jogs back to where he was as the sound of running footsteps gets louder. Another clear diamond wall grows directly in front of him. This one appears to be about a metre thick.
DAD: Have yo
u got enough kilos?
MUM: Yes. The last wall will be thinner.
As the man and woman run around the corner their brutal expressions turn to surprise. The wall behind them shatters to release the fluid and they are submerged at once, thrashing as Mum gifs more liquid to fill the space to the top. A red pulse in the depths indicates rifle fire but it’s weakened somehow.
The fluid turns dirty pink. I can’t make out the man and woman clearly any more and after a few moments they disappear in a swirl of blood and bone to leave a fizzing soup.
DAD: Acid?
MUM: Hmm.
DAD: And the other one?
MUM: Don’t worry about him.
The acid subsides into the floor, followed by the walls. There is no trace of the man and woman. Dad runs for the gangway again, sees movement on his left and turns towards it, fuze raised. Halfway down the tunnel a diamond spike slopes up and away. The impaled body of the last pursuer slides down it, colouring the top half an even red. His head hangs down and only the back of it is visible. I’m glad I can’t see his face.
I’m short of breath. My lovely Mum and Dad are these incredible, terrifying people. I ought to be shocked but I’m not. My hand grips at a gun that isn’t there so I point my n-gun finger instead.
I’m with you Daddy.
Dad peers over the side of the gangway, which crosses an ornamental shaft so deep I can’t see the base. I jerk in fear as he vaults over the side to freefall headfirst. I feel air whistle past him and shout in fear at the immense height. However, his heart rate has returned to a slow, steady counterpoint to mine and eventually I start to relax as he falls past platforms and windows to glimpse people working, arguing, embracing…
Sons of the Crystal Mind (Diamond Roads Book 1) Page 9
