by Paul Rice
He replied: “It fits into the reader on the dashboard, we can check it some more whilst we are under way, plus it links to the navigation system and will take us straight to a pre-ordained destination. That’s what I’ve been told anyway?”
Ken interrupted them. “Should we go now or is it too late, maybe we should wait until the morning, perhaps?” He was just being polite as in all honesty the idea of a late afternoon adventure enthralled him. Fortunately he wasn’t alone in his keenness.
My God no! Let’s get on with it – I’m tired of all this talk. What do you think, Mikey?” Jane said and turned to see him walking over with three suits and the box of blue tablets in his hands.
“That’ll be a unanimous ‘Yes’ then?” Ken said as he laughed and grabbed two of the suits. He threw one to Jane. “Last one changed makes the brews when we get back.” With a flurry, they ran to their rooms to get ready. Within five minutes they were back at the table having stripped, donned the suits and then put their normal clothes back on over the top. The suits felt strange and they weren’t really like wearing anything. In reality they felt more like a second skin. Mike passed them each a ‘bluey’ and sharing the glass, they swallowed the tablets with a swig of tap water.
Taking the red case, they headed for the barn where Mike zapped one of the Spears and opened the doors and boot. He picked up the other miniature vehicle and placed it in the interior of the boot. “Just in case we have a breakdown along the way…”
Jane asked: “That reminds me, I forgot to ask before, but what about fuel, are they diesel or petrol?” She looked at them. “I haven’t got any cash on me, should I go and get my purse, or what?”
Mike replied: “It’s OK, I have money and cards on me but we don’t need it for fuel, Ken will show you why.” He pointed at the boot. Ken obliged and lifted the carpet in the boot.
Looking into the space, where a spare wheel should have been, Jane saw two, fat, see through plastic tanks. They took up the entire under boot space and she could quite clearly see that they were filled with liquid. “Goodness, it’s no wonder we won’t need fuel, there must be enough in there to last a month – is that safe?” The thought of having two hundred litres of fuel behind her backside wasn’t something she felt too happy about.
Ken’s answer was the last thing she expected. “It’s only water, hun, that’s all these things need. Remember, I told you?”
She looked at him in shock. “Yes, but I forgot. Water, that’s it, just water! But the car looks so normal…” Shaking her head she turned away from the boot and asked: “Should I drive?” They agreed and also decided that Mike should take the front so he could keep all the gadgets working. Ken, in the meantime, would ride shotgun in the rear. It wasn’t too far from the truth, even though they had put George’s devices into their pre-determined places, Ken had also slipped a 9mm Beretta pistol into his waistband whilst he was getting changed upstairs in the Lodge.
When Jane asked him what he was doing, he had looked straight at her before saying: “Electric pens and liquid energy are great I’m sure… but nothing beats a hollow-point when the shit starts hitting the proverbial!” She had looked at him and then decided by the wry look on his face that he wasn’t joking.
“Right, where to guys?” She asked as she slid into the driver’s seat. After some adjustment of the seat and mirrors she called for the seat belts and waited until they had snaked themselves around her shoulders, then wriggled herself into a comfortable position. The men did the same. Mike inserted the little disc and then waited whilst the screen deciphered the information contained therein. Shortly afterwards the windshield illuminated, the Head-Up-Display glowing with its soft blue light. A map appeared and a small triangle flashed briefly upon the detailed surface of the screen.
Reading the instructions, Mike said, “Mmm… that’s down in Wiltshire, I think, you see the big forest just outside of the town? We have to get there by the most direct method, and get there unseen...” Tapping the screen, he enlarged the map and scrolled through with his finger until he came across a heavily wooded area that had a small clearing in the centre. “There will be fine I reckon, we arrive in Shrink Down, wait a bit and then, if the coast is clear, jump to full size?” He turned and looked at Ken in the rear.
Ken agreed. “Sounds good to me, fire her up, Jane… let’s just do this, huh?” She reached over, flicked a black switch downwards and then pressed the silver button marked ‘Start’. With a rumble the engine ignited, and in unison the dashboard lights began their rapid systems check. One by one they flickered out.
Mike looked once more at the little line of instructions and then closed the icon with a touch of his finger. “I guess that now is as good a time as any to start learning without the words…” he said, and then pushed something on the control panel – a small black tray extended silently from the facia. In the middle sat an aluminium button. He turned it once and waited until it had rotated slowly upwards to its full height.
As it did so a warning flashed on the windscreen: ‘Transfer to destination. Are you sure?’
“Yes!” He said and pushed the button firmly downwards.
Ken whispered: “I fucking hate travel sickness…”
The familiar tearing liquid noise filled their minds. It only lasted a short while and then ended abruptly. To the occupants of the car it seemed to have had no effect and, wondering if it had failed somehow, Mike turned to ask: “Well… that’s weird. It doesn’t seem to have worked… what next?” He was answered by a slight gasp from Jane.
Banging the steering wheel to get their attention, she whispered harshly: “Mike… Mikey, we’re there. Oh shit; look at that!” Jane had her nose pressed against the side window and both the men saw her body vibrate with shock. Peering out, they saw the most enormous insect fly past the window without a care in the world; they could hear the beating of its wings as the helicopter sized insect hovered above them. The car vibrated in the down draft as the huge thing lingered overhead for a brief moment. Probably deciding that the still shimmering Spear didn’t look much like lunch, it increased its wing speed and, with a loud buzz, zoomed off over the huge blades of grass surrounding them. The buffeting downdraft of its departure rocked the Spear on its suspension. They were there all right, there and in complete miniature!
It took a second or two of almost total unreality for the trio to accept the obvious. They were miniaturised, had done some sort of time travel, and were now at there destination encased within the amazing vehicle. They sat in stunned silence for a moment, before Mike’s understated remark spurred them into action: “Well, that’s fairly interesting isn’t it folks?” He reached up and touched the screen where it said ‘Scanner’. A white circle slowly spread across the screen and highlighted the various life forms that were in range. Several small white dots appeared in an indication of the presence of local insects and wildlife. There were no human forms to be seen. “OK, back to the real world. It sure was fun being a Lilliputian but I ain’t getting out of the car like this, I don’t even know if we can get out?” The black tray appeared, Mike pushed the button once and they waited as the bubbling green whirlpool encased them again. With a dizzying lurch, Ken’s much hated travel sickness made its reappearance. After the dust and their thoughts had settled a bit, Mike read the instructions again. His eyes scanned the words as they flitted across the screen. “Right,” he said. “The next way point is down in the town by the looks of things. Just follow the Navigator and let’s get there, looks to be about five miles, or thereabouts?”
Jane gunned the engine and spun the vehicle to follow the arrow that shone on the windscreen in front of her. It glowed with an opaque blue and gave its instructions in writing underneath: ‘Ahead two hundred metres, then turn left…’ The tyres spat gravel and grass as she pulled out of the little clearing and onto the track. Following the Navigator’s instruction, Jane led them out of the woods to where they soon found themselves on the main road heading into the small market tow
n, which lay down the valley. After ten minutes they entered the high street, at which point the navigator instructed them to wait. Jane pulled into a parking place across the road from an old Public House. It was home to ‘The Jolly Carpenter’ or so the sign said. The chalk board menu on the pavement outside announced that today’s special was: ‘Homemade corned beef hash.’
As they sat and wondered what was next, the screen flashed once and a red emblem clicked up over to the left side, the same side as the Pub was on. ‘Target is approaching.’ A picture of a man appeared, there were several pictures in fact, taken from differing angles and obviously on different days. Only the observant would notice that the man’s shirts were always different. Ken and Mike noticed, but it wasn’t easy, the man always wore the same dark green overalls that hung off his scrawny frame and led down to a pair of dirty training shoes. Only the smallest glimpse of the shirt was visible. You would have to be looking to notice. They were looking.
As they watched in disbelief, the very same man exited the Pub in front of them, crossed the road, turned right and then entered a shop marked ‘Greys Ironmongery’. A name flashed beneath his picture.
‘Graeme John Peters. Caretaker at Brown Hill Primary School’
This was followed by a stream of information regarding the now targeted Graeme Peters. It wasn’t nice information, either. Definitely not something you would put on your Resume, especially if you were working at a Primary School. Most certainly you wouldn’t. The words were interspersed with some graphic pictures, terrible images, including several of him digging a small square hole in a darkened corner of a wood somewhere. As he watched the show, Ken couldn’t contain himself. They heard him hiss. “This guy is one A-Grade arse wipe, isn’t he?” He paused and, after breathing in deeply, said, “I’ll go and kill him now, for free!” His clenched cheek muscles gave away the anger he felt. More information followed the terrible pictures, more information about the little girl whose image they had seen before. The images also came with some written information.
‘Susan Jennifer Bearsden: Aged six-years.
Entrapped and killed in seventeen days time by one Graeme Peters’
The date and time flashed up in red. The light of its digital display was detestable to them. To see the actual date of someone’s death, read out in advance, was not something you get to see everyday.
The briefing notes continued.
‘Bearsden destined for greatness in the field of Hydro-Cell Activation, pioneer of desalination technologies and H2O ignition’
The final line screamed at them.
‘Susan Bearsden, mother of three and Nobel Prize winner’
The pictures of the child floated across the blue screen. A happy go lucky child, playing and smiling like all children should. Yes, a happy young child who had no idea about the events looming upon her unseen horizon – pictures of a soon to be very dead young child.
Peters exited the iron mongers carrying a small brown paper bag. He wandered across the High Street and passed within several feet of the BMW. The heavily tinted widows would have been enough to disguise the occupants had he been looking, but he wasn’t looking and instead walked on past them. He was whistling, paper bag in one hand whilst the other was tucked into the hip pocket of his coveralls. Mr Peters seemed to be a very happy man. He crossed the road next to them and approached a green Renault, stooping to unlock the door he reached in and popped his package onto the passenger floor and slipped into the driver’s seat. Fiddling with his keys, Peters finally managed to start the car. He slammed the door shut, then pulled out of the parking space with a puff of blue exhaust smoke, and drove away.
Ken spoke to Jane from the backseat: “Follow him, but not too closely, the Navigator knows where he’s going anyway, if you think he’s made us then break off, OK?”
Her eyes met his in the rear view mirror. “OK, no problem!” She cruised out of the parking spot and hung back three cars behind the smokey old Renault. Keeping their distance, and one or two cars between his vehicle and theirs, they followed him to a small village, which lay just over four miles outside of the town. The road led down a long winding hill where, at the bottom, they saw their man turn off onto a driveway running by the side of an old cottage. Its white stone walls that stood out in contrast to the dark thatched roof overhead, made the house easily recognisable. Yet again, George had been totally right with the information he had given them. They cruised past whilst Mike followed the instructions of the navigator. “OK, that’s his house, now we need to find the final location. Just keep following the directions…” Jane did as she was asked and let the arrow lead her. Ken turned in his seat and, with his eyes glittering like ice behind their slitted lids, kept watching the cottage as it disappeared behind the hedgerows.
After they had found the remote woods, memorised its shape and where the entrance to the area of interest was, the navigation system then indicated straight ahead. Following its cue, Jane pushed on through the woods until they had exited the other side; as the woods opened, the trio found that they were now on an empty track. They slowly bumped across the rough surface with the scanner showing no trace of humans.
Without warning, the Spear suddenly came to a halt of its own accord. As she looked at the dashboard, for some sort of warning light to indicate as to why they had stopped, Jane noticed the words that flashed onto the screen: ‘Mission complete, transfer to start point… Confirm?’ She turned to look at Mike, eyebrows raised in query.
He nodded. “I guess that’s it then. Let’s go?” He touched the dashboard and the tray made its reappearance.
“Stand by people… puke city on the way!” Ken only just got the words out before his dry prediction confirmed itself. Minutes later they were back on their feet in the barn by the Lodge. The miniature Spears and other equipment safely packed away in the carry case. Still feeling slightly unsteady, they traipsed back to the house – their silence spoke volumes.
Jane placed a drink in front of the two men and pulled up her own chair. They sat and discussed the day’s events and how they could have improved, Ken said he was happy enough and the other two agreed. After chatting for a while they decided to eat and have an early night. Mike said he wasn’t quite sure what the trip had been about. “Was it a test, or was all of it for real. I mean that guy, Peters, he’s a horrible creature isn’t he?”
“I think it’s for real.” Jane said. “Don’t forget, Susan is predicted to die in, umm… how many days was it the message said?” She thought for a while with her brow creased. “Seventeen days, wasn’t it, that’s the best part of three weeks away?” She tilted her head to one side and raised her eyebrows as she looked at the two men.
“Yeah, you’re right, that’s plenty of time for George to watch him, and for us to go back. It’s like George said in the beginning, there’s plenty of time.” Mike said, and then looked at his watch in surprise. “Jeez! Have you seen the time, I’m shattered… let’s talk about it tomorrow, if we need to?” They all agreed and headed for the kitchen with the dirty dishes. Once the dishwasher was loaded they had a quick nightcap and then retired to their rooms. It had been a long and eventful few days and they were tired.
In the dead of night, two men were planning: Mr. Peters was busy working out the final moves of his latest, perverted obsession, whilst George, somewhere much further away, was planning on how best to stop him. A piece of string, so they say, always meets in the middle.
Chapter 13 - A Problem Shared
Part One
There was a message waiting for them when they awoke the following day. The screen on Mike’s Communicator had only one sentence on its shiny surface: ‘Congratulations on a mission successfully completed. We will be in touch soon. George.’ They stared at the screen and waited whilst Mike played with the keys to see if they had missed anything. After checking everything, he looked up and said, “Nope, that’s all there is – I guess we’ll be hearing from him in a bit?” His foresight was remarkably accurate
.
Almost exactly twenty nine hours later, whilst they were having a bite to eat the next afternoon, in fact, the Communicator woke up again. Waiting for its flashing light was now like waiting for that vital text message from someone important. Every five minutes they would keep looking at the machine. Look at it and then look again, just to make sure they hadn’t missed anything? They didn’t have to look twice this time. The machine lit up with a bright green flash that sent its rays flooding across the kitchen. Putting his knife back onto the plate, Mike reached over and turned the device so that he could operate the key pad properly. “This looks serious; I’ve not seen it that bright before.” The screen did its magic and then, over their cheese and tomato sandwiches, George gave them their latest task.
His tone was curt: “Good afternoon, my apologies for interrupting your meal. A situation has arisen rather unexpectedly. A small child will die in the near future. The child’s parents will, magnanimously, donate his organs to be transplanted. He is an exact match to one of our subjects, someone who very important for the future. Vital, one could say?”
The look on his face was perhaps the most sincere that Ken had ever seen on the old man. “He’s having a problem with all of this too?” He guessed, as he returned George’s gaze and listened to their mentor continue in sombre tones.
“It’s rather an unpleasant one this time, I am afraid – one child dies and we cannot prevent it, that’s never good, I know, but we have to ensure his organs reach the correct person. That should be the focus for all of us here, use it to help you.” He looked down at something on his desk and then, looking up again, he gave his final instructions. “There is a certain individual who, through his previous actions, will cause the organs to miss their intended recipient. We need to persuade him otherwise, and we need to do it in a hurry! All the information you require is being transferred as we speak – it will also be on the disc as per normal?” As he spoke, the data began its long trip to reach them, its arrival in the Lodge causing the small lights on the front of Mike’s machine to star their illuminated parade once again.
