In the Gleaming Light

by H. R. Moore

  ‘What modifications?’ asked Lulu.

  ‘We coded them to take more initiative. The water robots, for example, had to find the closest well, determine which communities used it, and then create the best daily delivery route and schedule. That alone had mind-blowing implications: children who hadn’t been able to go to school, instead having to fetch water for their family, could finally learn. Overnight, water wasn’t something they had to worry about any longer. It was simple and used tech that wasn’t ground-breaking, but made a huge difference to whole communities.’

  ‘What did the other type of robot do?’ asked Lulu.

  ‘They were butlers. We coded them to be workers: to prepare fields, plant crops, fix huts, educate the villagers about disease and contraception, and broadcast educational content and news programmes whenever appropriate. They tapped into the international internet satellite network and everything was powered using solar.’

  Guy took a long pause, trying to assess Lulu’s reaction, but she didn’t give much away, just motioning impatiently for him to continue. ‘What happened?’ she asked. ‘How did it play out?’

  ‘The first drop was terrifying. We shipped only one of each type of robot, using drones to deliver them to the most remote location we could find, trying to avoid detection. We just dumped them and let the locals and the robots figure out the rest together. We watched the whole thing live on video footage taken by the robots. Their reaction was fearful at first, especially of the butler. The water robot was less intimidating, and they could understand it more easily, but a robot that looked like them must have been terrifying. I didn’t even think about that beforehand; stupid, I know. I was just so excited to see what kind of difference we could make and to learn from the first drop so we could make them better for the next one.

  ‘The adults were cautious, but the children would run up and have a look at them when they thought no one was watching. The water robot got straight to work, following one of the kids to the local well. The kid saw it fill itself up with water, and walked back to the village with it, shouting loudly to everyone that he’d brought back enough for them all. People came rushing out of their houses, the adults sceptical, but the child recounted what he’d seen, and drank the water himself to show them it was true.’

  ‘Trusting of him,’ said Lulu.

  ‘That’s kids for you!’ Guy replied, recalling the image of the delighted child. ‘Luckily that settled it for most of the villagers, but some of the older residents took a few more days to come around; I guess they were convinced when they saw the others didn’t get sick.’

  ‘And then what happened?’ asked Lulu.

  ‘The change was amazing, but took longer than we’d expected. For weeks, the kids walked to the well with the robot, making sure it was coming back with water. After a while, they trusted that it would do, and stopped going with it, and that’s when great things started happening. Instead of staying at home to help out, most of the kids started walking to the not-so-local school. The butler also had a role to play in that, picking up a lot of slack for the villagers. And both the water robot and the butler could work through the night, as there was endless sunshine to recharge them during the day. It really is incredible the amount a butler can get done at full speed. We limit them in UK homes to make them more palatable, but when they’re going for it, they’re basically just a blur.

  ‘We learned from the first drop, made some modifications, and then sent more out there. We repeated the process a number of times, sending only a pair at a time, as that’s all we had the resources to create. But when I took over the company, the world was my oyster and we’ve been ramping up production ever since.’

  ‘That’s what the extra hours have been for?’ asked Lulu, everything falling into place.

  ‘Yes,’ said Guy. ‘There are a couple of people in each facility who know the truth about what’s going on, and they keep a cover story going for the others. They make sure the correct chips go onto the production line, and that none are accidently left there at end of the shift, that kind of stuff. Penny and Gerry have been overseeing operations in Exeter for years.’

  ‘Who would have thought it,’ said Lulu. ‘Gerry and Penny, ringleaders.’

  Guy laughed. ‘They’re brilliant at it,’ he said. ‘That’s part of the reason why I helped out Thomas. I figured if he was anything like them, he’d be a great asset.’

  ‘But it turns out he’s not,’ said Lulu, ‘or not any longer at least.’

  ‘Thomas was one of four key people making sure the operation continued,’ said Guy. ‘He talked a good game, saying he cared about the work we were doing. Although it seems as though that was all just a story to string me along. He took care of the financial side, siphoning money from Cybax to pay for it all.’

  ‘He was probably lining his own pocket at the same time,’ said Lulu, thinking of the lavish lifestyle Thomas enjoyed.

  ‘Maybe,’ said Guy, shaking his head. He had trusted Thomas, but then, so had Lulu.

  ‘And that’s why the GPS trackers were disabled,’ said Lulu, surprising Guy with her knowledge. ‘I used to work in the factory in Exeter,’ she reminded him. ‘One of the guys was trying to show off, bragging that he knew how to disable the secondary GPS trackers. I don’t think many realised the full implications of it, but I always felt uncomfortable, not knowing what was really going on.’

  ‘I made sure to leave the self-destruct mechanisms,’ said Guy, ‘in case they were tampered with, so the likelihood of reverse engineering was remote. In fact, given the sophistication of the mechanisms, along with the intellectual property protections covering our inventions, I don’t see how China could ever be a threat anyway, unless they came up with new tech of their own. The government don’t see it that way of course, and I’ve never pushed the issue too hard in case it led to increased scrutiny.’

  Silence settled over them as Guy gave Lulu time to consider what he’d said. ‘Thank you for telling me, even if it took news of your impending arrest,’ she said eventually, a playful smile on her lips.

  ‘My impending arrest...,’ repeated Guy, only now starting to think about the implications. ‘I need to make a phone call,’ he said, pulling out his smart glasses and telling them to call Benji.

  ‘Benj,’ said Guy, lightly, ‘I was thinking we should have watermelon ice cream at the meeting on Monday, to celebrate.’

  ‘Watermelon ice cream?’ said Benji, his tone even. ‘You know I hate that.’

  ‘I know, but sometimes we have to do things for other people’s benefit,’ said Guy, pretending to scold him.

  ‘Fine, I suppose I can put my own feelings aside,’ replied Benji. ‘Oh, Guy?’

  ‘Yep?’

  ‘The butler you brought in from the community project has been analysed, both by our engineers and the government guys. We found some rogue code with a showy tag, and GCHQ have tracked it back to a teenage hacker in Slough.’

  ‘Thank God for that,’ said Guy. ‘I take it the teenager has been offered a job with us?’

  ‘Yeah, but unfortunately GCHQ got in there first. Our software team have closed the door though, so no one else should be able to get in.’

  ‘Great. Get the PR team to spin up a story, and make sure you collaborate with the government.’

  ‘Already done,’ said Benji.

  ‘Always a step ahead,’ teased Guy. ‘I’ve also been meaning to tell you that we’ve decided to promote you to chief operating officer.’

  ‘What?’ said Benji, his surprise palpable.

  ‘Yeah. The board agreed it a couple of days ago. I’ll sort out the details. Just remember the watermelon ice cream, or the position’s off.’

  ‘Harsh,’ said Benji. ‘But I suppose I can live with that.’

  CHAPTER 14

  ‘Thomas!’ said Mila, shocked, as she walked into her apartment. ‘I didn’t realise you were planning on coming over tonight,’ she went on, her tone icy.

  ‘I thought we could celeb
rate,’ he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek and handing her a glass of champagne before retreating to the sofa. ‘Not only have I got a new position as CEO, but Iva’s agreed not to investigate me. It couldn’t have worked out any better if I’d tried.’

  Mila stood steadfast by the door. ‘That’s how you see this whole mess?’ she asked.

  ‘Mess?’ laughed Thomas. ‘I wouldn’t call it a mess. I’d call it a dream come true.’

  ‘Backstabbing the man who gave you a leg up in the first place? You wouldn’t be anywhere near where you are today without him.’

  ‘He’s breaking the law,’ said Thomas, with a shrug. ‘He had it coming.’

  ‘Like you’ve been doing too?’

  ‘I only did it because Guy put me in such a difficult position; abuse of his power really.’

  Mila’s face turned severe. ‘Do you believe that? Or are you just trying out a new line? Because we both know you only do things that further your own ends.’

  Thomas halted. ‘Mila, what’s going on?’ he asked. ‘Is this because I didn’t come to you? Did you want to be the one to bring Guy down? Is that it?’

  Mila laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘Are you kidding me?’ she said, taking a few steps towards the sofa. ‘Do you actually believe that’s a possibility? That the reason I’m angry with you now is because I’m jealous?’

  ‘You’re ambitious,’ said Thomas, confused. ‘And bringing down Guy would be a big coup, so yeah, I think it’s possible.’

  ‘Thomas, let me explain something to you,’ she said, sitting in an armchair and leaning forward, putting her champagne to one side. ‘The reason why the rich stay rich is because they work together; they help each other out. They do business deals, they network at parties, they give jobs to each other’s children. Sometimes they fall out, but everyone knows about it. What they do not ever do is pretend to be someone’s friend, use them for their own purposes, and then backstab them.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say...’ Thomas tried to interrupt, but Mila held up a hand to stop him.

  ‘Guy was ostensibly your friend and mentor. He let you into his inner circle and involved you in projects that only his most trusted were privy to, projects which, as it turns out, were only trying to make the world a better place.’

  ‘He had it coming,’ said Thomas. ‘I did what anyone in my position would have.’

  ‘What you’ve done,’ Mila continued, undeterred, ‘is prove that you can’t be trusted, not by anyone. From this moment on, the club you’ve tried so hard to become a part of will reject you. You’re too dangerous, too reckless, too selfish. Nobody can do a deal with you; you’d run off to greener pastures at the first sign of a problem. You have no loyalty and no integrity. Not only have you just signed Guy’s death warrant, but you’ve signed your own as well.’

  Thomas’ blood ran cold. He’d never thought of it like that. He’d assumed that as soon as he reached the top, he’d be safe, that he would gain respect and entry to the social circles he craved to be part of, simply because of his title. He hadn’t thought about the possibility that they wouldn’t want him, that they’d reject him, that they’d have morals.

  ‘But they’re all breaking the law left, right, and centre,’ said Thomas. ‘I haven’t done anything different.’

  ‘Most of them aren’t really breaking the law,’ said Mila. ‘Most of them just push the boundaries a bit. They give jobs to people that arguably they shouldn’t, they lavish perks on their employees, which arguably contravene the pay cap. But the important point is that it’s all grey. They very rarely cross a line they know there’s no defence against. That’s why even Richard got to keep his job after his investigation: because there was nothing concrete enough for Iva to secure a conviction. And now you’ve taken down one of the genuinely good guys.’

  ‘It’s your job to take down people like him,’ said Thomas, trying to deflect the conversation away from himself. ‘No wonder Iva’s always looking over your shoulder.’

  ‘It’s my job to catch people who are breaking the law, yes,’ said Mila hotly. ‘But I’d rather catch people like you, who are siphoning off money, or illegally accessing government files and using them to blackmail corporate CEOs, for nothing but their own personal gain.’

  Thomas reddened. She did know, he thought. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he said, fire sparking behind his worried features. ‘I’ve never done anything like that.’

  ‘Oh stop,’ said Mila. ‘I know you accessed my computer; I’m not an idiot. I thought you might try it, so I left my computer unlocked that time, and told my butler to record your activity.’

  ‘That’s illegal, unless you tell me you’re going to record me.’

  ‘Luckily, I work for the Enforcement Office, so I have special powers.’

  ‘Which you’ve abused in recording me,’ said Thomas, his body rigid, muscles held by fear.

  ‘No, I haven’t,’ said Mila, evenly.

  ‘I won’t take back my testimony against Guy,’ said Thomas, starting to panic. ‘Iva would come for me; I’d be finished.’

  ‘You’re finished anyway,’ said Mila. ‘Weren’t you listening to what I said? You’ll be ousted from the CEO club as soon as you officially join it.’

  ‘I will not,’ said Thomas, his mind telling him to take back control, to take a deep breath and think. ‘What do you want?’ he asked, after a few moments of silence. Iva had agreed not to pursue him for his crimes, but there was no guarantee the protection would be honoured by Mila. Even if Iva managed to get him an official pardon, it would only cover the things he’d told her about, and there was plenty more hidden away in the depths of his past, not to mention the other side projects he was working on. Until now, he hadn’t even considered that Mila might cause him a problem; he’d been toying with the idea of marrying her, for Christ’s sake.

  ‘I want you to put down your champagne, pick up your coat and leave my apartment. After that, I never want to see you again.’

  ‘You’re not going to try and blackmail me?’

  ‘Some of us don’t operate in the shady way that you do,’ said Mila, giving him a disgusted look.

  ‘So you won’t prosecute me then?’ said Thomas, feeling the clamp of worry around his brain ease a fraction.

  ‘I didn’t say that,’ she said flatly.

  ‘So you are going to prosecute?’ he asked, the vice returning with even greater force than before.

  ‘I didn’t say that either,’ she said. ‘I said I would like you to leave my apartment, you absolute piece of shit.’ She pointed to the door. ‘Or should I ask my butler to escort you out?’

  ‘Your butler can’t do that,’ said Thomas, trying to find a way to look at it without showing his concern.

  ‘Again, my butler has special abilities, given my job. It’s possible that someone like you could get angry and come to my apartment to try and attack me, so Matt’s allowed to defend me, although he’s not allowed to attack, of course. So,’ she said pointedly, ‘should I ask Matt to show you to the door?’

  ‘No, don’t be ridiculous,’ said Thomas, putting down his champagne and reaching for his coat. ‘I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of letting you throw me out of your apartment.’ He tried to give off an air of confident control, his actions too hasty to be convincing.

  ‘Bye, Thomas,’ she said, watching as he walked to the door. ‘Don’t contact me again; you won’t like the consequences if you do.’

  * * * * *

  Benji got out of his taxi and walked the last half mile to the building to which he’d so recently relocated the robots. All for nothing, he thought, his head down, shoulders slumped, as he considered the risk they’d all taken, for no good reason. The only saving grace was that at least everything was easier to destroy here than it would have been in Plymouth.

  He ducked down a side street and walked to the end, to an inconspicuous grey door in a dull and dreary wall. He put his hand on a barely noticeable scanner
and the door immediately sprang open. He stepped through, then pushed it closed behind him, looking around the small, blank space to make sure everything was as it should be. He stood still while a face scanner checked he was authorised to be here. Once that beeped, a keypad appeared in the wall, and Benji punched in an eight-digit code. The inner door slid open to reveal a cavernous warehouse, filled with crates ready to be shipped.

  So close, thought Benji, as he surveyed the vast effort that would now never be utilised. He sighed at the risks so many people had taken, the costs involved, the emotional toll it had taken on them all. If this had happened a year ago, just after their last successful shipment, it wouldn’t have been so bad. There would have been ten or twenty crates to get rid of, and, although he would have been sad because of the squandered effort and wasted potential those crates represented, he would have consoled himself, because at least the warehouse wasn’t full. At least the warehouse didn’t look as it did today.

  Today, it was packed full of crates. Full of millions of pounds’ worth of tech. Full of thousands of hours’ worth of effort. Full of multiple life sentences’ worth of law breaking. Full of hundreds of remote villages’ worth of aid. And it was all going to go up in smoke. All for nothing, he repeated silently to himself, anger coursing through him as it had at regular intervals since Guy’s watermelon ice cream call.

  He’d thought about doing something radical, about trying to make the shipment without Guy’s authorisation, but he knew it was too risky, and, worse, could leave an evidence trail that would send them all to jail. Guy had always been careful to ensure he was the only one who could be implicated in the event that someone found out what they’d been doing. If Benji tried to take matters into his own hands, he could inadvertently sign arrest warrants for them all. He walked over to the small security office in the corner of the warehouse, and tapped on the door.