Digital Venous

by Richard Gohl

  “I’m trying to explain to him—we need him to understand,” said Shane. Then, turning to Charles, he said, “The proposed space solution is a complete fraud. Space travel in this city is only open to about ten thousand Napeans. The rest can’t go!”

  “What’s the hurry? I mean, they can just keep building…” said Charles.

  “The Service also neglected to let us know about the flare predicted in a few month’s time!”

  Charles rested his head in his hands for a while, and then said: “So what do you want to do about it?”

  “I need to survive and to survive I need to be reinstated,” said Shane. “And you expect me to…”

  “Tell Service that you killed two of the rebels and that the other two were seen going back down through the Blackwood gate presumably to pick up food and ammo. Send a group of guards after them. Tell them I captured you but let you go…”

  “Oh, you let me go! How big of you!” said Charles indignantly. “You’re lucky he’s even thinking about letting you go,” said Alia.

  Shane continued, “Tell them I let you go but… but that I will make contact in twenty-four hours with a deal.” Charles was shaking his head.

  “What was the latest you heard about Blackwood, Belair?” asked Shane. “There is no Blackwood or Belair…”

  Alia’s head span around to look at Charles. Madi snarled, “What?”

  “…Or Stirling, Crafers, Picadilly, Summertown… they used gas. They left Greenhill out of it. I don’t know why.” There was a stunned silence.

  “Greenhill?” said Alia aghast. “Greenhill is all that’s left?”

  “That was the plan,” confirmed Charles.

  “We have to leave here now,” said Shane. “Alia, do you know anyone in Greenhill?”

  “Yes,” she replied.

  Shane turned to Madi, saying, “Can you take Ryan?” He noticed the blood. There was a burn on her right side near her stomach and there was blood around her hip and thigh.

  “It’s okay. It stopped bleeding,” said Madi.

  Shane walked away into an adjoining room and came back with Ryan and a strip of linen he had ripped from a bed sheet. The women embraced the boy, who stood bewildered amidst the quiet sobs.

  “So this is the kid who’s caused all the hoo-har…”

  “Shut up!” said Shane, nudging Charles with his foot. Shane handed the bandages to Alia.

  Suddenly Charles lifted his head, glanced off to the right, and then upwards. His eyes widened and he said, “The network is back on”

  “Stay off it!” said Shane. “Will you do as I told you?”

  “I don’t know why I should trust you again,” said Charles.

  “You have no choice,” said Alia, suddenly standing over him.

  “We’ve got to go!” said Shane. “Alia, Madi, and Ryan will go and stay safe in Greenhill. You”—said Shane, looking at Charles—“will hide me at your apartment while we organize ourselves into a meeting, in person, with The Service.”

  “Wait! Why don’t we just use him?” said Alia, indicating Charles. “The network is on, we publish everything we know—so the rest of the world can see that this whole place is one big facade?”

  “They’ll be expecting to hear from me and as soon as they see what you’ve done, this place will be leveled with us in it,” said Charles, matter-of-factly. “Napeans won’t believe you anyway. They believe in doing the right thing.”

  “Yes,” said Shane, “but it’s not the right thing anymore—they have been lying to us while using us as processing units for their interstellar trip and there aren’t enough seats for us! We may not even be invited!”

  “Of course we will,” said Charles. “Then you had better find a way.”

  Chapter 44

  Greenhill Relocation

  UNDER THE GUIDANCE of his old comrade, and at gunpoint, Charles eventually came to accept some of the truths about “The Service” and agree to hide Shane.

  Alia, Madi, and Ryan tried slipping quietly down into Stirling with the intention of then using a subterranean northeastern road into Crafers and so on until they reached Greenhill. However, it was impossible; there were Napean guards everywhere, gathering bodies, taking them to the bottom of the street and detonating small charges, caving in the walls and burying the deceased. The devastation was colossal.

  With the majority of city guards moving in and out of the different underground cities in a huge cleanup operation, it seemed it was going to be impossible for them to get underground at all.

  Alia began to worry that the Napeans had destroyed Greenhill as well. Ironically, the best way for them to get there, to find out, was going to be north, through the city and straight out the main gate.

  It was much too far to walk, certainly for Ryan—some twelve kilometers from Belair to Greenhill. The magnatrain took them silently north. They sat at the very back of the train trying to hide Ryan as best as they could.

  Napeans were out and about and the three travellers pointed at the structures in the different precincts; the pyramids shone golden through the western window. A sphinx sprang up between them, then bizarrely, right next door they hit Toy-Town and went under the giant Pinocchio—all red and blue—whose knee was lifted as if in mid-stride.

  Madi grimaced. “Why would you build that? And secondly, why would you want to live in it?”

  Ryan asked her, “Don’t you like it?”

  “No, I don’t,” she replied.

  Mickey Mouse smiled and waved—all forty meters of him. Madi said quietly to Alia, “Any idea where we’re going?”

  “Nope.”

  “Great,” said Madi, placing a hand inside her jacket as she tried to not to think how her ribs might be looking.

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Alia. “I do know someone. It’s in the fourth street.”

  “Number?”

  “That I don’t know. Her name’s Sylvana; she’ll look after us. But we’ve got to get there first.”

  “My bandage is weeping…”

  “Ew.”

  “Oh, thanks!” said Madi.

  “Don’t worry. If you can hold on, we’ll get a doctor as soon as we get in. Okay?” They passed through Africana and then Australiana precincts—and all the exotic animals particular to those countries. The last precinct before the Greenhill gate featured twenty or so modernist buildings melting, leaning, and swaying in all colors of the rainbow. One of the buildings was a series of white anthill-shaped structures that looked like they were made out of a pleated fabric.

  Further out to the west, in the background the three could see the classical “Ancient Orient precinct,” built using the natural color of Lunatex, a dark green jade. Some of Lofty Mountain’s wealthiest lived in these huge pagodas, which looked out over the sea.

  Ryan hadn’t heard any of the conversation. He was agog at the architecture. “Mum, look, that building looks like a wave at the beach!”

  “Mmmm, amazing,” said Madi.

  The train pulled in at the stop they hoped was closest to the Greenhill gate.

  “Keep a look out for the space elevator,” said Alia. “It’s supposed to be just west of here.” They looked out in that direction but couldn’t see it. Many of the buildings they passed in the area were a rich ivory color, with natural curves like weathered cliffs in a ravine.

  A guard came jogging out of a tall, white cylindrical building –its top floors looked like huge scoops of melting vanilla ice—cream. The guard made a direct beeline for them.

  “You guys have tags?”

  “Well, no. We just came in to grab him…” said Madi.

  “Well, how did you get in?”

  “My son followed some workers in this morning, panicked, and ran off. We came straight up about an hour ago looking for him and luckily found him.”

  “You’re not supposed to be here at all! No females!” said the guard, waving his arms and shaking his head.

  “It’s just that he’s deaf and sometimes behaves
erratically,” said Madi.

  “What’s deaf?” asked the guard.

  “His ears don’t work,” said Madi.

  “Ears don’t work! What do you mean they don’t work?” said the guard. He found it hard to believe that the body could malfunction in such a major way and nothing be done about it.

  “He was born that way!” said Madi, lying through her teeth. “Where do you live?” asked the guard.

  “Third Street, in a single women’s grow center,” replied Alia. “Come and visit?” said Madi, shrugging.

  “What number?” The guard seemed to be directing his question at Alia.

  “240,” said Alia, scowling at Madi. The guard couldn’t read the facial expression. “I’ll do that,” he said. “Hurry and I’ll let you out!” They followed him at a brisk pace,

  passing several very dull Napean military buildings and a tall lookout. The guard placed his hand up on a reflective panel next to one of the gates. There was a crack and it began to open.

  “Thank you so much!” said Alia, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Well, you’re lucky; there was hardly anyone about.”

  “Thanks.” Madi gave her sweetest smile.

  “… And you’re lucky you’re from Greenhill too!” He yelled through the gate. “You’d all be dead otherwise!”

  “Charming,” said Alia under her breath as they hurried out down the pathway to the transdome.

  “And you invited him round for dinner!” said Madi. “You idiot,” replied Alia.

  Ryan laughed. It was strange, but he was beginning to see that real people enjoyed being mean to each other.

  Chapter 45

  Charles Crompton

  THAT NIGHT CHARLES had to swallow his pride and ‘explain’ to the Service how things had gone so terribly wrong. He was very nervous. It was Serviceman Pato who addressed him first: Do you have Wing’s body?

  He escaped…there was a door that… Jeffery: How could you let him get away? Charles: He was not alone.

  Pato: What about Bokovski—did you get her?

  Charles: She wasn’t there; she stayed underground at Blackwood with several of the other women—and no sign of the boy either. We assume they are all dead. Wing’s combat knowledge makes him a very difficult target for us. Between the three of them—they killed six of my men! He could have killed me. He let me go.

  Charles thoughts were rambling; he was nervous. Pato: Give us a minute Crompton.

  The three Service officials held a private ETP brief. The conversation was not in Real time; Crompton would have been waiting no more than 10 seconds for the following discussion to end:

  Jeffery: Just how well did he know Wing?

  Charles was the new focus of Jeffery’s suspicion yet he seemed to be forever asking others for the facts.

  Magellan was looking at the statistics on his Iris. You can see as well as I can: They were never guards in the same city but pursued the same case a number of times.

  Pato : They would definitely have known each other.

  Magellan: Yes but there’s no evidence to suggest anything but brief working contact—no after hours ETP for example. Nothing social.

  Jeffery: How then could wing have escaped from his own apartment when there were seven guards!

  Magellan: Now you know why he was one of our best. We should never have pushed him out.

  Pato: However it’s still odd that out of 7 guards, he, Charles Crompton, is the only one to have survived.

  Jeffery had a solution: I’ll call an investigation.

  Magellan (incredulous) But this was an investigation—he was the investigator! Jeffery: No it was an assassination—gone wrong. Until we have a Napean guard we

  can trust, we are extremely vulnerable.

  Magellan : We need to find Wing and sound him out. We don’t have time to…

  Pato: Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

  Jeffery: Yes but will he come back?

  Magellan: We need to find him first. The relocation process will be a lot easier with his help.

  Pato: …and where is he going anyway?—he can’t last more than a few weeks off cycle. The officials brought Crompton back into the discussion.

  Pato: Crompton, how well did you know Wing?

  Crompton: I knew him, obviously, everyone did. We had worked in the same areas before but he kept to himself—was a commander. Was respected—until he was caught. No one likes a hypocrite.

  Jeffery: Quite… What are the chances of bringing him in?

  Crompton: Not good, I don’t think… we tried to destroy him, killed his son. He’s gone for good. Nor can we track him—he won’t use the system... Unless you publicly reinstate him—he’s very proud.

  Pato: Oh I don’t think… Jeffery: Keep your friends close?

  Pato : Well, yes, I see what you mean…”

  Charles sensed acquiescence and tried to control his jubilation. He wanted them to think it was their idea to reinstate Shane. He allowed formulation of his thought: Wing only ever wanted to see his son. Think about it. He threw away a century of work which took him to the apex of …. Of …

  He became self conscious and the train of thought slipped. In a moment he found it again:

  …he will want his old life back. He doesn’t know anything else.

  Jeffery: Find him; tell him we’re very sorry.

  Magellan: Yesterday we try to kill him; today we apologize. How do you think he will react?

  Charles: That I don’t know. I do know he has an aversion to ETP. He’s old school—he likes to communicate in person Pato: That’s impossible. Magellan: Is it? Jeffery: Just find him.

  Chapter 46

  The Elevator

  SHANE HAD BEEN watching the treatment of the mass killing in the underworld on Napean news. There was no mention of killing or any depiction of death. There was footage of empty underground streets and language such as “necessary precautions” being used. Napeans hadn’t a clue as to what was going on.

  Meanwhile, to be safe, Charles had been at Crafers Gate watch-house for his meeting—he was never sure how much the Service picked up through ETP. The remainder of his crew were still cleaning up. He had instructed them to remain vigilant—subs were survivors.

  When Shane heard someone at Charles’ front door he took cover in the adjacent bathroom. Charles walked in, alone. “Shane?” he yelled.

  Shane appeared behind him. “How did it go?” he asked.

  “Very well. They want reconciliation,” said Charles.

  “Good. Tell them I want back in. But I need to meet them, in person, up there.”

  “They’ll never let you. No one’s ever met them. They don’t let people up there!” “But no one’s ever done what I’ve done. I know all their secrets, yet I can control what

  happens down here too.”

  “But they can turn you off, turn any of us off, can’t they?” asked Charles. “They can turn off renewal, stop the hunger cycle…”

  “That’s going to hurt,” said Charles

  “But that would take time… and they haven’t done that. I’m still here.”

  “Yeah, I noticed—and you’re sounding pretty full of yourself, too.”

  Shane reclined on Charles’ pin chair. His body weight was distributed evenly across twenty-five pins and they began to move—ever so slightly. It was bliss for an old Napean body.

  “Okay. What do I say?” asked Charles.

  “I don’t know. Make something up.”

  They waited a few days before acting—to give the impression that Shane had been difficult to find, difficult to convince. It gave him time to contact Ryan, to check he was safe and to stay in touch with Alia. He passed on a message that the Service might reinstate him. He could help them from the inside. She warned Shane to be careful.

  “Y’know,” said Shane, “that girl impresses me more and more.”

  “How are you finding dealing with Ryan’s mum?” asked Charles, as usual managing to completely misread social cu
es.

  “I’m not talking about Ryan’s mum. I’m talking about Alia. I think she’s great.”

  “And Madi?”

  “Now that’s a different story…” Why?” asked Charles.

  “She’s clearly a psychopath—I don’t know how someone like Ryan could have been impregnated, conceived to her… by her… however it works…” said Shane.

  “You don’t like her, then?” “It’s not that I don’t like her…”

  “Shame,” interrupted Charles. “You could have paired up and created a baby brother for Ryan—a little napeoid or a …”

  “There’s nothing stopping you. I think you’d be good with her. You could ask all the irrelevant questions and she would quite happily answer them all. A perfect match.”

  “She’s certainly a unique woman,” remarked Charles thoughtfully.

  “Yeah, well, forget it; she’d poison you or slit your throat—she’s tough as nails. She beat me to a pulp, just quietly.”

  “Really?”

  “Well… from behind. And I was handcuffed. She’s certainly got a ruthless streak.”

  “Yeah,” said Charles dreamily. “Yeah, I like that…”

  A few days later, Charles contacted the Service, telling them that Shane had been found hiding out, alone in the forest precinct and that, after a good deal of convincing, he had agreed to a meeting, in person. The Service thanked Charles and instructed him to stay with Shane and await further instruction.

  That night, just like old times, Magellan used the network to find Shane. As the attempt at contact flickered in Shane’s eye he said to Charles: “So much for the middle man. You’ve been axed!” He put his fingertips up to his eye. “It’s Magellan!”

  The Service had accepted his requests. The weather was fine—if he was prepared to use the elevator.

  Shane and Charles made their way to the Service Research Facility. Security was extremely tight. While it seemed that the Service wanted Shane’s help, they were also being very cautious of him. Four guards accompanied them down the central laneway of the research precinct to a security checkpoint. Here, the lane was blocked off by a huge metallic-looking gate with a smaller door in the middle of it, similar to the ones used around the perimeter of the city. The doorway opened and two guards waiting on the other side of the gate were looking them up and down as they stepped through.