by Ian Williams
She made a quick mental note to check the power relay after she had finished here. If Simova had figured out that part of their operation then Anthony would need to know. She did not understand much of what was going on, but she knew the city would probably be able to track them syphoning power from the wireless power grid.
She heard a few of the Simova people chatting away as they pulled indeterminate wires out of the wall of computers. Staying behind the computers meant she could see them without them seeing her. Again she counted six men, all of which wore shirts emblazoned with the Simova logo, just under the left shoulder. She had no idea what they were doing, except that they were in no rush to complete it. All she saw were a collection of metal boxes, each connected up to one of the computers they had already dug out of the wall. Between the noise of the fans and the small boxes the men used, there was little space for the sound of the shot to have penetrated the room. The boxes were very odd things to see as well as hear.
While they spoke she again noticed the man she had spotted earlier by himself, taking the total count of Simova men to seven. He was much more muscular than the others, with cropped hair and large arms. For some reason he worked alone at the back of the system. She dare not get too close, just in case he spotted her. Though she became intrigued by his actions, all of which suggested he was doing something he would rather the others did not know about.
The man had his own metal box attached to at least two of the computers and worked away at a much faster rate than that of his colleagues. Occasionally he checked back to see if they were looking toward him. Worryingly for her, he looked as concerned as she was of being spotted. Despite the fact that he wore the Simova uniform, she suspected he was acting on his own.
She leapt to the floor when one of the other men approached the computers by her side.
He began to tug at the cables while he spoke to his colleagues. “So what happened next? Did you take her back to yours?” the man said.
In the distance she heard another man say something in reply. She had already chosen to ignore the rest of their conversation; their sexual escapades were not the focus of her attention, the lone man was. The obvious conclusion was that he was trying to do the same as the others, except he wanted to finish before they could. But why? She doubted he did so to impress the others.
After watching the man for long enough, she was satisfied she had found something noteworthy to report back to Anthony. So she backed up along the rear of the computer wall. The other men had carried on with their mindless chatter and were yet to finish even one of the machines by the time the lone man had gotten through three. She needed to tell Anthony that someone was acting alone and posed a possible threat to his plans.
At the door she turned to leave and was spotted by one of the men at the far end of the room. Of all the times to be vigilant, they pick now! she thought, as the option to run became the most viable. Of course the unconscious Pete around the corner would have to stay there for now. She would come back for him after losing whoever followed her first.
“Hey?” the man shouted from behind.
Without checking first she began to run, failing entirely to spot the body of the officer still sprawled out on the floor. She tripped, but managed to catch her balance just before slipping into a forward roll. From there she continued to stumble away. The body would attract a lot of attention once the man found it. She quickly decided she needed to at least try and wake Pete before leaving the scene. The police already had maybe five of their people.
Around the corner she stopped and checked the entrance of the warehouse behind her. When the man popped through the door and tripped over the body, the same way she did, he pushed it away and began to call for help. From inside the building came the sound of echoing footsteps, until the others burst out the door. All except for the lone man once again, who stayed put to tinker some more.
They had no way of knowing which way she ran off, so they stayed and dealt with calling back the police, who had left them there, instead. Within minutes the other officers would be there and looking for evidence to tie someone to the scene. If Anthony’s toys were any good then they would find no way of linking anyone to it. All she had to do was get Pete away. Freddy could go to hell for all she cared.
She found Pete leaning against the wall a few metres behind a bin. He at least had tried to hide. As with all D-Stim users so recently after taking a puff, it was difficult to wake him. Only a hard kick in the side had any effect at all. Once he showed signs of coming around he became panicked and started to thrash about. She clamped her hands tightly over his mouth to keep him from giving them away. The last thing she wanted was to have to knock him out again. He would be far too heavy for her to carry.
“Pete, it’s me,” she said, holding his face still. His cheeks pushed together and a dribble of spit ran down her right hand. She flicked the spit away and then began slapping him. “Wake the fuck up! We’ve got to go.”
Eventually Pete became quiet and looked at her with apologetic eyes. They told her enough about his emotional state for her to guess he had had another bad dream. She felt for him, but this just was not the time to talk about his tragic past. However much it pained her to hear how he had accidentally killed someone, she had more pressing matters to worry about.
“I’m sorry, Phoenix,” he said.
“I know, I know. We’ve got to go now.” She pulled him to his feet and saw how his greasy hair flopped down and blocked his eyes, along with the many wrinkles that surrounded them. His clothing was torn and in a much worse state than hers, it even ripped in places as she tried to stand him straight. “I’ve got you, come on.”
Pete thanked her as they stumbled away. They needed to get much further away before they contacted Anthony again.
She wiped her face on her sleeve and noticed the dark smudge left behind; her eye-liner was much thicker than she realised. Even though her appearance had slipped, she still looked nothing like her old self, and that was the whole point.
After a slow but effective walk in any direction that took them away from the scene, they arrived at the river. It had taken them a little over ten minutes to reach it and in that time Pete had gradually returned to normality. D-Stim’s were always a bitch to shake off. She expected it to be much worse for someone Pete’s age – even though she had no idea how old he actually was.
They stopped at the edge of the river and looked across to the other side of the city. To their left was the bridge, carrying all of the Mag-Lev traffic across the water. At this time of day it appeared quite beautiful against the low sun, but still not as comforting as the views away from the city.
“You can sit while I speak to Anthony,” she said to Pete, who did exactly as she said without a fuss. She then took out her wrist screen and held it up, rather than wear it. Seconds later Anthony appeared again.
“Where have you been?” he said.
“I’ve been running from the police, after your nutcase friend Freddy shot one of them.”
Anthony stopped and rubbed the ridge above his left eye, pushing his eyebrow down. He breathed out heavily. “I’m sorry to hear that. I didn’t think he would snap like that. Are you OK?”
“We’re fine, thanks. I’ve got Pete with me still.”
“Great. So, did you find anything important?”
“I think so. One of the Simova guys was working alone. He’d connected your computers to a metal box thing.”
The screen blurred slightly as Anthony turned away, presenting his black shirt to the display instead. For a few seconds he remained silent. He then began to mutter something to another person in the room with him. Phoenix missed what was said.
“Can you describe exactly what he was doing?” Anthony said. When his face returned to the display it looked slightly flustered and more animated than before.
“I guess, why?”
“Just describe it please.”
She was irritated to see Pete once again drifting off to sl
eep. He had not taken another D-Stim, it was a real need for sleep this time. It meant she had time to waste describing things to Anthony, however much she would rather just go home.
“Fine. He had a metal box with a hinged lid and something inside that he plugged your computers into. On top it had a light that flashed every couple of seconds and I think it was processing something? Oh, it looked the same as the boxes the other Simova guys were using. Except he was working alone and much faster.”
“You’re certain he worked alone?”
Phoenix felt almost certain that he had been working alone. The problem was that each time she played it over again in her mind, she was unable to definitively convince herself.
“I don’t know. He seemed kind of suspicious, like he was worried about being seen. He hid what he was doing the best he could.”
“Thank you, Phoenix, that’s useful to hear.” For a while Anthony looked away from the display and stared at something off-screen. When he turned back, his face stretched into a broad smile. “I have another job for you, are you OK to continue?”
She considered refusing and setting off home instead, and if not for her missing brothers she probably would have. As it stood she had to continue, otherwise Anthony would never agree to help her find her brothers. “Fine, but you’ve got to find my brothers for me after I’ve done it.”
“I’ll agree to that.”
Pete stirred in the background as she considered how best to deal with him. Eventually she had to ask for Anthony’s help. “Can you send someone to pick Pete up too? He took a D-Stim earlier.”
Anthony took in a long breath and deliberated over letting it out again. “Dump him in a Mag-Lev, let him sleep it off.” His generosity only went so far, especially with Phoenix’s friends. He only made an exception for her and her brothers because of her usefulness. She knew full well that if not for her, Dillon and Sean would have been kicked to the curb by now.
When her wrist screen returned to its clear setting, she lowered it and saw Pete stretched out on the floor, his legs crossed at the ankles. She still needed to drag him to a Mag-Lev station. Then again, if he did not wake up this time then he would spend the night exactly where he lay. He was old enough to look after himself anyway. Or was he? Watching him draw air in through his nose, hold it and then force it out like a faulty leaf-blower, she decided he needed the extra help after all.
She buttoned up her dark green duffle coat and then began to pull Pete up by his right arm. He flopped to the side and let out a moan. Unfortunately for her, he made no attempt at all to wake up. She would have to drag him.
“You really pick your moments, Pete,” she said as she took his other arm and yanked. She only hoped Anthony’s next job would be easier than this. Her legs could take little more. Besides, after that she had her own job to complete: getting her brothers out of whichever police station they were being held in. For that she knew she would need a plan first. She would go to Anthony for that, and for some more of his gadgets too.
Chapter 5
The girl with the flame red hair
“Alex, dinner’s ready,” Graham shouted from the living room sofa. He watched the evening news report from the very edge of his seat, with no intention of moving until it was over. The story had changed to an incident earlier in the day in which a police officer had been shot dead by a man shouting nonsense. What glued him to the seat temporarily was seeing where it happened. In the backdrop of the report was a live recording from a news drone that showed the warehouse he had been at only hours earlier.
The news reporter broke away from the video feed and a face appeared that was glowing from an overuse of make-up under the studio lights. She spoke at a fast pace, hardly stopping between sentences at all. “Simova declined our requests for an interview, but they sent us the following statement…” she said.
Scrolling across the bottom of the screen was the officially released statement from Simova. The woman read it out. “Today’s incident has shown just how well-guarded the Simova network has become. The people responsible for attempting to interfere with the city’s systems have now been dealt with, and were stopped before they could do any harm. We would like to assure everyone that we will continue to safe-guard the city. Those who wish to put any part of the network at risk will be caught and prosecuted, without delay.” The news reporter stopped before adding: “There is no mention of a service break of any kind. So it appears this will not be a repeat of the troubles Simova suffered twelve years ago. We will keep you posted when we hear more.”
A quick cut to the next news story meant Graham instantly lost interest. His own involvement in one of the stories had taken precedent over anything else that was happening in the world. While he let the full extent of the incident sink in, his mind had become too full to take any more in.
“What is it?” Alex asked.
He managed to pry his eyes away from the screen to see his daughter standing and watching him. She wore pink pyjamas and held her favourite doll in one hand – the one she spoke with almost as much as her real friends – while she twirled a tuft of her black hair with the other. Whatever expression was on his own face, he could almost see it reflected back in hers.
“It’s OK honey, just something to do with Daddy’s work.”
For now he felt satisfied that Elliot had avoided getting involved, otherwise he would have heard about more injuries by now. If there was one thing he knew about news, it was that it rarely went into much detail these days; people wanted news quickly and in the shortest form possible, or they were not interested at all.
“What’s for dinner,” Alex said. Thankfully she had accepted his explanation and already moved on. He knew Jane would have tried to explain it properly. His wife had gone out for the evening though, so his way was right for now.
Once the report had finished he left the sofa and ushered Alex to the table, where her dinner sat ready, and piping hot too. As usual she had forgotten what she had asked for and sat looking at her plate with disappointment – and an exaggerated expression of disgust.
“Yuck,” she said, prodding the slice of pizza that had been prepared at her request by the automated Home Management System.
“That’s what you asked for, Alex. If you didn’t want it then why didn’t you ask for something else?”
Her response was to push the plate away and stick out her tongue. “Can I have ice-cream?”
The Home Management System then interrupted with its smooth sounding female voice. “Would you like dessert now?” It asked, rather unhelpfully.
Graham laughed, but he was in no mood to negotiate with her tonight – or the Home Management System. At least this part he was good at. “Not until you’ve eaten that,” he said sternly, followed by: “Cancel Alex’s request for dessert, please,” at the Home Management System. It replied with a simple beep sound. He tried his best to keep his face straight and not to allow even the smallest smile through. The moment she picked up on his faltering seriousness his entire attempt at discipline would crumble before him.
“Fine,” she replied.
“Good. Now finish that and maybe I’ll let you have afters.” He turned to walk back into the lounge when Alex stopped him.
“Where are you going, Daddy?” she said.
“I’m just going to call Uncle Elliot. I need to make sure he’s eating his dinner too.”
Alex giggled and then took a large bite of pizza. “You’re funny,” she said through a mouthful of food.
“I know.”
Back in the lounge, Graham took a seat and waited as his wall screen called his work partner. The few moments spent dealing with Alex had only caused him to worry more about Elliot’s afternoon. He had left him in the shit after all. He would have to repay his friend a few times over to apologise for leaving him this time.
Finally the screen turned black, followed by a view of the street on its side, which came into view every few seconds. To the left was the ground, while to the right noth
ing more than a clear sky appeared, with tiny stars sparkling back at him. Elliot walked at a brisk pace and had chosen not to stop to answer the call properly, instead letting his wrist screen swing about.
“Elliot?” Graham said with his head unintentionally leaning to the side. The screen had become too hard to look at by this point. He began to worry even more. Why was Elliot wandering the streets and not at home with Ruth? The time in the corner of his screen said 9:34pm.
With the view of the street still swinging back and forth, Elliot finally answered. “Hey G, what’s up? Did you check the relays?” he said while marching along.
“Yeah, I found the one they’d connected to and unplugged it all. We need to remove the rest tomorrow. Where are you? All I can see is the ground.”
“Yeah sorry, I’m a little busy at the moment. You OK?”
There was little point in talking to the street, so Graham checked on Alex to make sure she was eating. She was not. Instead she chatted with the interactive toy she had begged him to buy for her last birthday.
“I’m fine. Just calling to check you were. I saw on the news about some incident at the warehouse. Were you there?” he said, ignoring Alex’s loss of attention for the time being.
“Yes, but I didn’t see anything really. Sorry I didn’t tell you, G. I’ve been a little preoccupied this evening.”
“That’s OK. I’m just glad it wasn’t worse. Where are you now?”
“I’m just out….” – there came a long pause – “There anything else?”
The response sounded defensive to Graham. For some reason Elliot had swiftly avoided the question and was hurrying the conversation along. The fact that he refused to show his face or any real part of where he was, suggested he had been caught out by the call.
“No, I guess not. Is everything OK, buddy?”
