The Sentient Collector (The Sentient Trilogy Book 1)

by Ian Williams

Graham envied his daughter’s lack of understanding when it came to their situation. Her six-year-old brain was ill-equipped to comprehend the magnitude of what was happening to her uncle. If only for a moment, he wished he could be that way. He could even go as far as saying he would rather the day had not started at all. Somehow, a permanent limbo felt more appealing than the constant fretting they had all endured while waiting for a response to Elliot’s message to his dealer.

  Ruth walked into the room and sat between Alex and her husband. “Anything?” she said. When Elliot shook his head she hunched her shoulders and then flopped her head back against the chair. “We can’t wait forever. What do we do if he doesn’t reply at all?”

  “If who doesn’t reply, Auntie Ruth?” Alex asked, missing the serious tone of the adult’s talking entirely.

  “Nobody honey, don’t worry.”

  Sensing the conversation was about to become sombre again, Graham entered the room and tried his best to amuse his daughter. “Alex, come here a minute.”

  “But Daddy, I want to watch this,” she replied.

  “Please, I need your help with something.”

  With a frustrated puff of air from her nostrils she jumped down from the seat and strolled over to him. She looked back to the cartoon still playing as he pulled her into the hallway. The further they ventured out of the lounge the more she leaned back to see the screen.

  He knelt down to reach Alex’s much lesser height than his, before speaking. “I need you to let Auntie Ruth and Uncle Elliot talk for a little while. Can you help me out and watch the cartoons in the bedroom instead?”

  “That’s a small screen.”

  “I know, but you’ll have to make do until your mum’s back. How about I let you watch another two cartoons if you do, how’s that?”

  “Erm,” she said while thinking over the options. Eventually she smiled and began to skip on the spot excitedly. “Another two cartoons, please.”

  “Good girl.” He kissed her forehead before finishing. “Off you go then.”

  Seconds later he could hear the same cartoon echoing through the apartment. He returned to the lounge and told the screen to turn off while the others continued to talk things over. It was the least of their worries to have a distracting animation playing out. He thought it best to turn it off still. Anything he felt he could do to help was worth a try at least. Getting involved in their conversation was something he was not at all comfortable with doing.

  “We’ll have to find someone to break it off you or something,” Ruth said.

  “No, we can’t touch it. They said it would go off.”

  “We’ve got to do something, Elliot.”

  “I’d rather just wait for now. Last night they put me through more pain than I’ve ever experienced before. They’re not messing around. This is serious.”

  To allow them to speak without interruption was the only thing Graham knew he could contribute for the time being. His opinion did not really matter as long as they had each other anyway. So he set about preparing yet another round of teas. This of course was automated. He need not even press a button. The Home Management System had predicted their need for a hot beverage and had begun boiling the water, all before he returned to the kitchen.

  In the back of his mind he found a quiet place where his thoughts were allowed to flow unhindered by his worries. He remembered back to the warehouse he and Elliot were sent to. At the time he had suspected his friend had wanted him out the way for some reason, now he knew why. All along he had gone along with Elliot when told on countless occasions: ‘I’ll sort the MARCs out.’ Now it had been revealed that he swapped them with a drug dealer. Worse still, he had done so in the part of the city most likened to a gutter. To say he was surprised was putting it very lightly.

  When three mugs of tea appeared in the serving hatch to his side his mind snapped back to reality. He picked all three up, spilling some in the process, and then walked carefully over to the sofa. “Here we go,” he said.

  As he placed the mugs on the table he was stopped by a flash of blue emanating from Elliot’s wrist screen. They had not spotted the waiting message while they continued their heated discussion about what the very near future would hold for them. Unable to speak, he flicked his fingers frantically in the direction of the blinking alert now spreading a blue hue over the seat cushion.

  “Oh, shit,” Elliot said, leaping up from his seat. He tapped the screen and read the message as fast as he could. As he did his lips moved with each word. Even so, Graham could not figure out any of them – not for a lack of trying of course.

  “What does it say,” Ruth asked.

  “We’ve got a meeting, in one hour. I’ve got the address too.”

  Ruth stood and pulled on Graham’s arm. “I’ll grab my coat, then we can go.”

  “Sure,” Graham replied. “Let me get Jane back first though, I don’t want to leave Alex.”

  “Whatever. Just make it quick.”

  “Are you both positive you don’t want me to come too?” Elliot asked.

  Heading for the bedroom, Graham left Ruth to explain once again the rules set out by the kidnappers. The device had some kind of police detector inside it that would activate the spikes if they were picked-up nearby. Acutely aware of this, they then agreed – to Elliot’s frustration – that he was safest staying indoors.

  While Alex knowingly watched more than her allotted number of cartoons, Graham called his wife Jane. She had stepped out to the local shop to get more medical supplies to tend to Elliot’s many injuries, so he knew she would not have gone far. Getting her back before he left was the only stipulation he had to their otherwise agreed plans.

  Jane answered before the second ring had sounded out. “What’s wrong?” she said.

  “We got a reply. I’ve got to go now.”

  “OK, I’m on my way back already. I’ll be there in five minutes or so.”

  “Great, rush if you can.”

  His wrist screen went blank as the image began to jiggle about. The request to rush had resulted in her jogging with a bag of medical supplies, no doubt spilling across the pavement due to her increased velocity. He hated panicking her, except the need for speed was now more than ever.

  “Where is she?” Ruth asked while sliding her arms inside her furry-collared beige coat.

  “She’s not far,” he replied. His question for Ruth was slightly more sensitive, however. “Look. I know I said you shouldn’t carry that Taser-stick around, but…”

  “Before you ask, consider why I’m wearing such a thick coat in this weather.” She opened the side of her coat to reveal the weapon hanging inside. It remained in its un-extended state and just in the right place to get to quickly. Suddenly the notion that he may have to protect her felt absurd, she was more of a threat. Plus she had a much larger stake in the outcome.

  “Good, although I’m hoping we won’t need it. We just need to convince this Dino to help us, that’s all.”

  Ruth closed her coat and placed her hands in her pockets. “I really don’t think it will be that easy, Graham. Honestly, you need to be less trusting of people. Most of them suck.” She retrieved a hairband from her pocket and tied her hair into a more convenient ponytail. She was ready for action.

  “I know, I have met some,” Graham said with a forced smile.

  The moment the front door opened and Jane appeared with a small bag in hand, Graham and Ruth brushed past. With Ruth in front, he had the chance of a quick hug with his wife. Both knew the next few hours were more important than any other before, so their embrace was full of hidden – and unspoken – messages. Graham’s to Jane was simple: Don’t worry. Jane’s to him on the other hand was predictably something like: Don’t get yourself killed, you big oaf.

  “I’ll be back in a couple of hours hopefully,” Graham said followed by a rushed kiss on her flushed cheek as he sped off.

  Already halfway up the street from her ground floor apartment, Ruth was nearly out of sight.
She was going whether he joined her or not. He forced himself to run to catch her up, which proved a bad choice after only reducing the distance by a couple of metres. To get through the next hour he knew he would have to pace himself. Otherwise there was no way in hell he would be able to react quickly if the need were to arise.

  Still lagging behind his much fitter sister, he checked his wrist screen for the directions to their destination, which instantly appeared. Their conversation before leaving had not been ignored by the many snooping ears of the Simova network, so it knew exactly where to guide them. The thought garnered an unexpected sense of paranoia to flow through him, bringing with it a very worrying question: Who else was possibly listening?

  “We have calculated an 88.4% probability that you wish to travel to the following address, please confirm,” an automated voice asked from a tiny speaker in his wrist screen.

  “Yes,” he replied after recognising the address from Elliot’s message earlier. “Take us there please.”

  “Confirmed. Please board a Mag-Lev car at your convenience.”

  “Hey sis, wait up,” Graham called ahead to the speeding blur, shaped roughly like his sister. The rhythmic swinging of her ponytail made it clear she was not going to slow down for a second. Dino would have absolutely no idea what was about to arrive. For his sake Graham hoped the answers were to come freely, otherwise he was not sure what Ruth might do to the poor sap.

  * * *

  Standing before a large building with a two storey surface of glass separating the inside from the out, Phoenix marvelled at the unbroken reflection bouncing back. In the early afternoon light it appeared to be a wall of blue sky and clouds. The only blemish on this almost perfect sheet of glass were the two sets of rotating doors that allowed eager shoppers inside. Indeed, a large number of them were already busy seeking out daily deals and could be seen moving around behind the reflections of the outside world.

  Following Anthony’s request she had altered her appearance to fit in with any normal group of city folk for this latest job. To achieve such a metamorphosis she had done away with the basic t-shirt and baggy jumper look she usually wore underneath a preferably large coat. She had replaced this with a short black skirt, a purple shirt and a black suit jacket – not from the same shop. To finish off the ensemble she had decided on leggings, but the only colour she could get turned out to be a shade of yellow. All in all it was a definite fashion disaster, yet the outfit still fulfilled its purpose.

  The reflection of herself looking back from the large windows was one she did not approve of at all. Her hair remained its previous shade of red, though she had to flatten it to one side. It was an odd look, with one side of her head covered with hair while the other was shaven; one she would change the moment her current job ended.

  Her wrist screen began to flash as a call came through, breaking her free of the nightmarish version of herself staring back. Was this what she would have looked like if she had been born and raised in the city?

  “Phoenix, where are you?” Anthony said.

  She held up her wrist and saw a slightly stretched and curved face wrapped around her arm. Wearing the device was another request Anthony had made. Apparently this was how normal people wore them. “I’m out the front, where are you?”

  “Good, we’re heading in from the rear of the shopping complex. Meet us by the fountain in the centre. Oh, and look natural, these people have no idea what’s about to happen. We can’t give ourselves away before we’re ready. Otherwise a lot of people are going to die unnecessarily.”

  The call ended and her wrist could once again be seen through the clear surface of the screen attached to her arm. She fiddled with the device, spinning it one way then the other as she tried to find a comfortable position – or at least one that did not remind her of handcuffs. Then she made a direct line for the rotating door nearest her.

  A couple got to it first and they wandered through with a hand in each other’s pockets. The sight nearly made her puke. Following closely behind, she slid into the gap in the rotating door behind the couple and shuffled forward. Thankfully she was spared a front row seat to the two’s affections as an advertisement suddenly burst onto the door in front of her, offering a voucher for 10% off of women’s make-up. She kindly declined. Best to shop when I’m not working, that way I can get my usual 100% discount, she thought.

  The inside of the shopping complex was as bright as it had been outside, thanks to a ceiling of thick glass panels. She walked along the bottom floor with the first floor walkways hanging at either side. Directly above her head was a slightly tinted view of the sky. Thinking over her last few months within the city she realised she had not seen so much blue above her. Most of the time she worked during the night or inside a collection of large warehouses Anthony owned. It was a nice change, although she still had not found out the exact details of the job. That would almost certainly dampen her relatively good mood.

  She walked through the muddle of shoppers, all carrying large bags and chatting to their companions without a care in the world. Each smiled and laughed while they wasted their money on the latest designer clothing or the newest version of the Simova wrist screen. She never understood this, each device received its data and power from the relays, so their speed was irrelevant of model number. Perhaps all that really mattered was the number printed on the back, and she was in fact the odd one.

  Passing shop after shop, their windows ablaze with colourful holographic images of models strutting around, she began to feel a degree of anger. Her world was a lot less attractive than this pretty one. She began to find it all made her feel sick. Too much was vying for her attention all at once. Or were there just too many people around her? Either way she had had enough and needed to find the others. The job would distract her enough to get through it. If it did not, then she would find it hard not giving in to the temptation to pick up a chair from the nearby restaurant and fling it through one of the shop’s windows.

  Finally the large water fountain came into view. It took up most of the width of the first floor and was traversed by crossing a small bridge. The sight relaxed her, just as long as she could ignore the distracting surroundings. The water trickled and splashed as it ventured down an artificial waterfall to her left. Once it passed the bridge it opened out to form a large lake, albeit one only a foot deep.

  She walked across the bridge and stopped in the middle to look over the barrier and see the glistening water. Leaning over, with the barrier pushing into her ribs, she peered across the shimmering surface of the water and could make out the dull rusty coloured coins sat underneath. It caused an unsolicited memory to pop into her head of a time she had tossed coins into a lake with her family. On that occasion she had laughed for hours after her brother, Dillon, had fallen in while trying to retrieve his – and other peoples’ – coins.

  A loud whistle broke her free of the memory – she would try revisiting it later, with the help of another D-Stim hit. When she spun round she saw a group of men standing by a door just beyond the fountain. The man at the front was Anthony and he was waiting for her to join them.

  She left the only part of the shopping complex she found remotely comfortable and walked over. If the rest of the day was to be as stressful, she was unsure if the fountain would be enough to calm her a second time. She only hoped the job did not become too involved, perhaps stealing something small or another database hack. Although their location suggested the latter was unlikely.

  “Hurry up,” Anthony said to a man in front of him who was kneeling by the door.

  She joined them and immediately spotted the man was attempting to break the electronic lock attached to the security door. The other men were merely hiding the breach from any prying eyes, one of which was carrying a large green army style bag over his left shoulder. “What’s the plan then?” she said, looking to the bag nervously.

  “Shhhh, keep you damn voice down,” one of the men said.

  “Hey, shut your
mouth, dickhead!” Phoenix shot back at him.

  “Enough,” Anthony interrupted. “Everyone shut up until we’re through. Saul, how long?”

  The man continued to tap away at his device and ignored the question. Seconds later he announced his success with a push of the door, which clicked open.

  “Excellent, everyone in,” Anthony ordered.

  Phoenix followed and watched as the world quickly turned to darkness on the other side of the door. After her eyes had adjusted to the artificial lighting she could see a corridor extending away from her, lined by the same yellow tinted bulbs that hung directly above her. The lack of any advertisements meant this area felt more like the inside of a prison than an upper-class shopping centre. It smelled like it too, with the sterile whiff of detergent in the air.

  The door slid shut behind the group. She could now count five men, including Anthony. It was a small gathering of people, so the job was shaping up to be something quick.

  “OK, now listen up. As agreed, we’re the first in so we take out security and clear out the admin areas upstairs. The second group will close off the ground floor, taking any hostages they can in the process before they lock the front doors. After we’ve done that, Phoenix and two others will go to the roof to connect up the equipment. So, any questions?”

  No-one spoke as the plan had apparently already been put to them earlier. Each knew what to do and where they were needed at each stage of the operation. Phoenix, however, had only known about the location and the dress-code. The rest was almost double-dutch to her. “I’m sorry, did you say hostages?”

  Chapter 9

  The next phase

  Phoenix decided to hang back as the men stormed up the stairs with their guns drawn. They checked each landing with speed, for any signs of security. Their group was now dressed for the occasion – and armed for it too. It had become clear why the large green bag had been necessary only seconds after they left the public behind: it carried the weapons and black boiler suits for each of them. To complete the organised criminal look they all wore black woollen balaclavas to conceal their faces.