by Guy Morpuss
‘I had no choice. Sierra had arranged to meet him but stupidly she hadn’t realised that we had taken an hour of her time that day. She never bothered to read half the messages we sent her. So by the time Karl came to meet her, Sierra had dropped out, and it was me Karl met instead. He was an idiot. Didn’t bother to scan me.’ Alex smiled at the memory. ‘He started to tell me that he had seen one of us go in to visit Guskov in the Death’s Head a few days earlier, and leave with Amy Bird. He was bright enough to understand how schizos work, which was more than Guskov did. Karl said that if I paid him he would tell me what time he had seen us leave with Bird. Well I couldn’t have that, could I? It would have told you all that it was me. So Karl had to be silenced.’
‘But that was a complete waste of time when you took one of his pills and left it for us. That’s what led me to the club, and finding out about andis.’
‘That was a mistake,’ admitted Alex. ‘I didn’t know how andis worked in the park. I assumed Karl was selling recreational drugs. I thought you’d identify it and it would cast more suspicion on Sierra.’
‘But why did Guskov haul Ben in, then, and threaten him over Karl’s death, if you two were working together?’
‘He wasn’t happy about me killing Karl,’ said Alex. ‘He suspected I was double-crossing him. I wasn’t able to contact him until after he’d questioned Ben. I told him it was a mistake – that something had gone wrong with my control of Amy Bird. I’d managed to lay enough of a false trail the night before, getting Bird to come to the murder scene, and leaving one of her buttons. So he believed me. But the truth was he wasn’t going to stop the lucrative game he was running just for the sake of that waster Karl. Ben was never in real danger. Guskov was just playing with Ben.’
‘But from what he said in the club Guskov seemed to think he had been dealing with Sierra from the start. Did he know it was really you?’
‘He doesn’t really understand schizos. I got in touch with Captain Les after Montreal, once you’d voted to come to the park. I pretended to be Sierra, and said we wanted to get in touch with his cousin. Guskov didn’t really care who I was. All he wanted was to have a show for his customers and make a profit. It seemed safer to pretend I was Sierra, in case he let it slip. But he wasn’t going to do anything that jeopardised his game, anyway.’
‘But why didn’t Sierra deny it?’ I asked. ‘When I saw her in Guskov’s warehouse this morning, and when we were in the club, she went along with it all. Was that even Sierra in the new andi’s body, or was she dead already? Was that just you controlling the andi?’
‘Sierra was in there,’ he said. ‘But she had no direct control. The andi was running a low-level AI, doing what I had told it to, and drawing on her for memories and behaviour. The feelings and emotions were hers. When I was awake I could give her directions. Dr Bernard fixed all that for me. Sierra could see what was going on, but she couldn’t control it. She deserved it. She spent her life manipulating people. Refusing to listen to anything I said. Getting drunk. Leaving us in unsafe places. You’ve no idea how satisfying it was finally to have complete control over her. To make her do what I wanted.’ He smiled. ‘Inside she must have been screaming. But for once no one could hear her. It was perfect.’
‘She thanked me for killing her,’ I said. ‘It sounded real.’
‘Perhaps that was her at the very end. It was hard to keep her suppressed, especially when her emotions were strong.’ He paused. ‘Don’t you understand? It wasn’t enough to get rid of her. This was all for you, Kate, for us. I had to convince you that Sierra was behind all this. So you would be happy to be Amy.’
‘It was cruel. Whatever she did in Montreal she didn’t deserve that. You made her attack me. She forced herself on me. What were you thinking, Alex?’
‘I needed you to believe it. It needed to seem real.’
‘Oh, it felt real, all right.’ Remembering Sierra’s kiss in the rain brought something else to mind. ‘Amy Bird – she was you as well? When she kissed me in the castle …’
He looked away. ‘Yes. Like Sierra’s andi after the spaceship game, until you took over Bird’s body she was running a low-level AI with a version of me. Doing what I told her to do. It was all part of the show.’
‘It was pathetic.’ I stared at him, seeing him perhaps for the first time. ‘You’re pathetic. You’re a cuckoo, Alex. Moving between nests. You pretend to be like us. You look like us. But you aren’t human. We cared for you, we loved you as one of us. And in return you’ve pushed us out of the nest one by one.’
He smiled to himself. He seemed oddly pleased with the image.
‘So what now, Alex?’ I asked. ‘Are you going to push me off this rooftop and empty the nest entirely?’
‘You?’ He looked at me in astonishment. ‘I could never hurt you Em— … Kate.’ He tried to cover his slip. Too late. Anger coursed through me again.
‘You don’t even know which one of us you claim to love. You never loved either of us. All you wanted to do was kill Sierra and fuck me. Well you’ve managed the first, but the second is never going to happen. I’d rather die.’
‘But, Kate …’ he stuttered. ‘This was all for you. For us.’ He looked away and bit his lip, staring past me. The sun had almost gone now, the sky and the mist blending to a fiery red. He seemed entranced by it. ‘I did it for you, Kate. Whatever you say now, we both know there’s something between us. You know this could work if we give it a chance.’
Did he seriously believe that? ‘You’re delusional,’ I said. ‘There was never anything between us. We had five minutes holding hands twenty-five years ago, and I felt sick for most of that time. You were sweaty and creepy and needy. I was just trying to be nice. I told you things about me to calm you down. Not because I felt anything for you. There is never going to be anything between us. You’ve destroyed our lives for nothing. The others are dead. I’m stuck in this body and can’t get out of the park. Is it true what you told me earlier? That I can’t go back?’
He nodded. ‘I thought it didn’t matter. I knew you didn’t like andis, but I thought you’d come round. There’s no way of getting you back in here. I’m sorry I screwed up so badly. This seemed perfect. You and me, together at last. But it’s all messed up. All because I shouted your name out of love. Now you’re in a body you hate. But I’m still sure we could make it work. You just need to give me a chance. With time you’ll realise that you love me too.’
‘That’s never going to happen,’ I said furiously. ‘You’re broken inside. More twisted than Sierra, even. After twenty-five years you’re still just the sad fat boy who held my hand for too long. I wish I’d never tried to help you. I felt sorry for you then, and I pitied you after Montreal. But pity isn’t love. It’s disgusting what you’ve done. You’ve killed my friends. I’d never love you if we lived another hundred years. I never want to see you again.’
‘Truly?’ he asked. There were tears in his eyes. ‘Why?’ He reached across the table again and before I could stop him had grabbed my hand. I tried to pull away, but he put it to his lips, kissed it lightly, then let it fall.
I snatched it away from him, and stood. I threw my glass at his feet, where it shattered in a mix of champagne and shards. He flinched backwards.
‘I’m leaving,’ I said. ‘Did you really believe that you were going to charm me with this? With some egotistical story of how you ruined everyone’s lives? It’s vile. I don’t know how I’m going to get out of the park, but I’ll work it out myself. Whatever happens, you’re on your own.’
He looked up at me and smiled sadly. ‘I always was, Kate. I realise that now. Schizos are the loneliest people of all. It was foolish of me to think I could change that.’
ALEX
DAY FIVE
20:00
I watch her leave.
The metal door bangs shut, and I hear her footsteps fading down the stairway. The silence creeps back until I feel as though I am the only person left in the world. The only mons
ter.
Kate. Emily. It doesn’t matter any more. I was never good enough for either of them.
Emily hated me at the end. No doubt still hates me.
And Kate thinks I’m pathetic. A pathetic, killer cuckoo. A strange image to be left with.
The sun is almost gone. I pick up my champagne glass and walk over to the edge of the roof. The mist shines red below, as if on fire. My entire adult life, the only sunsets I ever saw were when we went to Montreal. The one place where, briefly, I was happy. I remember the last sunset. Stumbling down a mountainside, half-dressed, barely able to see for tears in my eyes. The red of the trees and the sky merging into one. Leaving Emily.
I may have got everything else wrong, but that bitch Sierra got what she deserved. I’m only sorry that it wasn’t my hand on the knife.
I step up on to the low wall that runs around the edge of the rooftop, knocking back the last of my drink. Unlike Kate, I’m not going to waste it.
I let the glass fall, and it tumbles end over end until I lose sight of it.
It’s starting to rain and I don’t fancy getting wet.
I step forward and the mist rushes towards me.
Kate is wrong. I’m not a cuckoo.
Cuckoos can fly.
EPILOGUE
Kate sat back in her chair, arms folded. The man standing in front of her was sweating. He might cry at any moment.
It was early morning. The club bar was empty apart from Kate, the tearful man, and Vincent standing threateningly to one side.
‘Let me understand,’ she said. ‘For the past three months you’ve been selling methylphenidate – our methylphenidate – and instead of taking our generously agreed ten per cent, you’ve been skimming off an extra chunk for yourself. How did you think we wouldn’t notice?’
‘I’m s-sorry … so sorry. It was a mistake. I’ll pay it back.’ He glanced sideways at Vincent. Then back at Kate. ‘I promise it won’t happen again. Please … please don’t give me to the doctor. Tell Mr Guskov I’m sorry.’
Kate paused for a long moment, and stared at him. Letting him think. The mind is the best torturer. When he looked as though he was about to collapse, she spoke. ‘The doctor’s gone. We don’t do that any more. You’ll pay back what you stole from us – doubled. By my calculation, that’s just over three weeks. Since you’re feeling generous we’ll round it up to a month. Plus a three-month fine for stealing from us. Four months, to be paid to my associate,’ she nodded to Vincent, ‘before you leave. Don’t let there be a next time.’
‘Thank you … thank you. I promise it’ll never happen again.’
‘Take him away.’
Vincent winked at her over the man’s shoulder, then grabbed his arm and led him towards the exit.
Kate winced as they stepped on the patch of floor that had once been covered with Sierra’s pooling blood. It was a year ago – exactly a year – and the ground had long since been scrubbed clean. But she could still see it. Could still feel the doctor’s knife scraping along Sierra’s ribs. Could still hear Sierra’s gasped ‘thank you’.
She always avoided that part of the bar.
They had been less fastidious in cleaning up the mess left by Alex’s twenty-storey fall to the concrete roadway beneath the high-rise. Eventually, the rain had washed even that away.
Kate visited less often now, but still went there occasionally when she needed to think. To remember. There were no graves to visit. No memorial to either Sierra or Alex. Their bodies had long since been recycled. Ruined beyond repair, at least there was no risk of Kate ever bumping into them in the park, housing different minds. Nor was there any memorial to Mike or Ben, who hadn’t even died in the real world. They lived on now only in Kate’s memory. Which was ironic. Five minds become one.
There was a low wall near the bottom of the high-rise. Sometimes, when she needed to, Kate would sit there, staring unseeing at the patch of ground where she had found Alex. His body – their body – broken and bloodied, covered with a thin layer of settling concrete dust. The body that Mike had spent so long creating, destroyed in a final act of selfish guilt. Destroying all their carefully earned time.
Leaving her stranded in the park. For how long, she still didn’t know. If Alex had really loved her, would he have done that?
Footsteps interrupted her musings. Godfried threaded his way through the plants and armchairs. Carefully avoiding stepping on the place where Sierra had died. She hadn’t said anything, but he’d noticed.
‘Are we done?’ she asked.
‘That’s the last of them. We took two years in fines. I like this new system of yours. Less blood and more income.’
‘Let’s hope the boss is happy with it,’ said Kate. ‘Sometimes I think he still prefers the old ways.’
‘What matters to Guskov is the bottom line,’ said Godfried. ‘That’s looking pretty healthy these days, and there are fewer corpses to dispose of.’ He walked over to the bar. ‘Can I get you something?’
‘At nine in the morning? I’ve told you before, God, it’s not good for you.’
He laughed. ‘And I’ve told you before, that’s not what’s going to kill us. Live a little.’ He brought over a bottle and two glasses, setting them down on a low table. He sank into the chair next to her and handed her a shot. ‘You need this today. Where I come from, we have a tradition. One year on we go back to the graves of our friends, our loved ones, we take a bottle to loosen our memories, our tears, and we remember them. I didn’t know your friends and they don’t have any graves. But I’m all there is.’
She looked at him in surprise. He had remembered. She took the glass. ‘Thanks.’
She knocked it back in one. The fiery liquid coursing down her throat. A warm glow spreading to her fingers and toes. Her fingers and toes. She no longer thought of them as Amy’s. People change. Sometimes because they have no choice.
She handed the glass back to him for a refill.
‘Why don’t you leave the park, God? You aren’t stuck here like me. You could go at any time.’
He paused. Thinking about the question as he filled her glass.
‘I don’t really know. I like it here. The world out there is just a little too perfect. Too ordered. It’s hard to break the rules. Everything is decided in advance – even how long you’re going to live. Here things are different. Here you can live. Despite the games it somehow feels more real. Maybe that’s why people come here. To take risks they can’t take in the real world.’ He drained his glass and sat back. ‘I don’t see myself leaving.’
‘I’ll be out of here as soon as I can. The boss has promised he’s got people on it. Even after we got rid of the doctor. That’s the only reason I’m working for Guskov.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure,’ he said. ‘You like the park. And this is where your friends are.’
‘Dead friends.’ She tapped the side of her head. ‘They’re still here. They’ll travel with me wherever I go.’
‘And new friends.’ He leaned across and tapped his glass against hers. ‘Here’s to the next year.’ He smiled. ‘I’m willing to bet that, whatever the boss discovers, you and I will be sitting here in a year’s time doing the same. And you know that I only take bets I’m sure I’ll win.’
Kate smiled back. Maybe he was right. Maybe she needed this place. For now.
They sat in companionable silence, nursing their drinks as she remembered the others. Their absence had left a void in her. Something missing that she couldn’t quite explain. Something she still missed.
Eventually Godfried spoke. ‘If we’re going to do this properly we need to talk about them. Remember the good times. I can’t do that. You need to tell me.’
Kate held out her glass.
‘Give me another drink, God. Then shut up.’
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
My wife, Julie, still hasn’t entirely forgiven me for writing the first draft of this book without telling her. So I should start by thanking her, not just for the support
in getting Five Minds finished, but also for putting up with that sort of behaviour for more than twenty-eight years.
Julie was the first person to read the book, and without her enthusiasm and encouragement it would have died there. Her comments were rather kinder than one of my other early readers, who responded with the somewhat double-edged, ‘It reads really well – doesn’t sound like you at all.’
At the time I naively thought that all I had to do was finish it, find a publisher, and I’d see it in bookstores in a matter of months. Then I learned about agents, editors, submissions, structural edits, line edits, copy edits, cover design, and everything else that goes into taking an idea from an author’s mind and making something that a reader can hold in their hands.
Two years on, here we are.
At some point in the process I realised that this had ceased to be just my book, but included and depended upon the contributions of many others. Without them it wouldn’t exist.
With hindsight I realise that my agent, Max Edwards, should not have been the third person (after my wife and one son) to read the book. But he saw enough in my 55,000-word manuscript to take me on, and then (together with Alice Skinner) did a lot of the heavy lifting necessary to turn it into something we could present to publishers. I owe Max more than I can say. Thanks also to everyone else at Aevitas Creative Management who has supported me in this.
Perhaps Max’s greatest contribution was finding my superb editor, Miranda Jewess, who turned Five Minds into what it is now. She gently explained to me that characters fighting for their lives wouldn’t talk like a fifty-year-old lawyer making submissions to a High Court Judge. She not only trimmed my language, but forced me to ensure that the jigsaw fitted together in a logical and coherent way. Brainstorming ideas with Miranda was invaluable.
Thanks to the many others at Viper and Profile Books who have helped along the way, in particular: Graeme Hall, Penny Daniel, Flora Willis, Rachel Nobilo, Drew Jerrison and Niamh Murray.
