by Vic Robbie
‘I have rescued her from the clutches of the odious Ottomon.’
‘Why is he chasing her?’
‘She knows something about Ottomon, and he wants her dead.’ Skarab studied him. ‘But I have great plans for you both.’
‘Are you going to experiment on her?’ He felt sick at the thought.
The scientist sighed and shook his head. ‘I’m not a butcher. It’s more sophisticated than that, but your intellect is basic and might not grasp what’s happening.’
I’m not as stupid as I look.
‘Try me.’ At least while Solo was alive, there was hope.
‘Do you believe the unusual things happening to you are random?’ Skarab chuckled in the back of his throat.
‘Becky wasn’t random. You planned her abduction. Is my daughter alive?’ He dreaded the answer that would destroy him.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘She’s dead?’ A numbing chill coursed through his body.
‘No, I’m sorry because I didn’t realise that she was your daughter.’
‘Would it have made any difference?’
‘No.’
They left the city behind, and the roads became quieter, and Skarab looked sideways at him. ‘I’m a scientist. Everything I do is for the betterment of man. If you can grasp that, you’ll understand why I have to do this.’
He stared at the footwell, accepting his reflexes from the fighting days had deserted him and angry at himself for getting into this situation. The man was mad, and all he could do was rattle his chains in response.
Enjoying an audience, Skarab continued, ‘I work for the State, but the research you’ll be involved in is much more important.’
He wasn’t listening. All he could think of was Becky and that he’d blown his last chance of rescuing her.
‘My main work is in microchipping. Where you come from, you won’t know much about the subject.’ Skarab glanced across. ‘But the more you think about it, the more the pieces of the jigsaw will fit into place.’
His mind raced, trying to figure a way out, but all solutions ended the same way.
The scientist explained the chipping programme started long before the War in Asia and was a natural development in a modern world. The downside was blanket surveillance, although the benefits appeared to outweigh concerns. The war changed everything. Security was paramount.
Skarab cleared his throat and checked he’d heard, but he gave no sign he had. ‘The most exciting aspect of the chip was that we controlled emotions, useful for dealing with people with aggressive tendencies. We rendered them harmless. For example, initially, they allowed protests because people needed to think they had a voice even if they hadn’t. And we dialled down their emotions, so property couldn’t be damaged, or members of the security forces attacked. But if you dial it down, you can also dial it up. It was useful in the War in Asia. We turned our soldiers into fearsome fighters.
‘And there were other benefits. Once agents working behind enemy lines carried a cyanide pill upon their person, usually in a false tooth, and when caught or tortured, they bit on it as a way out. But death was in the hands of the agent, and understandably some were reluctant to make the final decision, hoping to hang onto life. And they gave away vital secrets that would be used against us. Now we no longer have that problem. If captured, we delete them.’
‘Deletion?’
‘The ultimate level in the chipping process.’
Skarab elaborated that they brought in erasure when criminals continued to offend, but the State needed a stronger deterrent.
‘It works like it does on a computer. The person’s details are erased, so they become a non-person. No access to their homes, travel, anything. Therefore, they don’t exist, but that caused problems. People littering the streets, sleeping in doorways, stealing food. So, it was taken to the ultimate stage—deletion. Operated by the scanner I always carry with me. Once sentenced, deletion is activated. The implanted chip triggers a process similar to a virus, which shuts down the target’s central nervous system and the body self-destructs.’
‘Just hit me over the head again that’s simpler.’
The scientist offered an enigmatic smile. ‘You’re too valuable for that. What you don’t realise is both of you are unique. Understandably, you don’t accept what’s happening to you. You are wondering what’s real and what’s not. You might even think you’re going mad. Let me assure you, you’re not. In the world of theoretical physics, it is quite logical. I understand what you’re experiencing, I’ve been there, and it took a long time to come to terms with it. You and Solo are linked in a way you’d never believe. That’s why I’m bringing you together for a procedure that will explain it. You two will be closer, closer than you ever imagined, so close you’ll be like one.’
Skarab laughed. ‘Did you understand what I told you about the chipping process?’
‘Does it matter now?’ He shrugged.
‘In your case, yes.’ Skarab took his eyes off the road. ‘Do you notice a slight tingling in your left hand in the skin between the thumb and forefinger?’
He did but wondered if he’d imagined it. ‘Why?’ he asked, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.
‘While you were unconscious, I inserted a chip in your hand.’ He paused, waiting for a reaction. ‘It’s a quick and simple procedure. Congratulations, you’re one of us now.’
‘What’s the point?’
‘Control.’
He felt violated and tried to pull his hand up to inspect it but that only caused the cuffs to dig deeper into his skin.
Chapter Forty-Three
The crisscross pattern Solo thought was an imprint on her retina was wire mesh. In an attempt to focus, she rubbed her eyes and scanned her surroundings and the cage that imprisoned her. She lay on her side, and moving her legs caused shooting sensations throughout her body, and a piercing pain stabbed at her eyes in concert with the pounding of her heart. She recalled that before passing out she realised Bette had drugged her.
The musty darkness of the room made her nose wrinkle, but there was enough light to determine shapes, and she sensed another presence in the room. Again, a whimper emanating from another cage.
Something is watching me.
‘Is there someone here?’ she asked in a stage whisper so as not to alert whoever might be outside the room that she’d regained consciousness.
The shape morphed into the figure of a child, forcing itself against the cage and giving a plaintive cry.
‘Becky, is that you?’
The girl sobbed, ‘Don’t like the dark, I wanna go home.’
‘I’ll get you out soon,’ she soothed her. ‘My friend will open the door, and we can go out into the sunshine.’
Not believing her, Becky wailed all the louder.
‘Don’t cry.’ She searched for an opening, but her cage was locked. ‘I promise I’ll get you out.’
A scuffling halted her efforts to placate the child, and Bette opened the door, allowing a shaft of light to illuminate the room. And it gave her a clear view of the little girl, standing up with her hands on the wire and her face dirty and tear-stained.
‘Why are you doing this, Bette?’ She rattled the wire. ‘Get us out of here.’
But the scientist’s mother ignored her and went over to the child instead. ‘Sssh, be quiet. If you’re a good girl, I’ll find some food for you.’
If she had doubted Bette was her son’s accomplice, she now knew the truth, and she asked more forcibly, ‘Why have you put me in this cage?’
‘My son said we had to because you threaten his work.’
‘That’s not true, I was only trying to help him.’ Her eyes were growing accustomed to the gloom. ‘Please, let us out.’
‘He told me you’re a troublemaker, and it’s for our safety, but once his experiments were over, he’d free you.’
‘But why keep this little girl here? She’s doing you no harm.’
‘I can’t.’ Bette�
��s voice broke. ‘Where would I get my transfusions? She’s one of my donors.’
The woman turned to go, but she called her back. ‘You were once a little girl. Were you ever afraid and alone in a darkened room?’
As a series of emotions ran through her, Bette paused. ‘My son needs her blood for his research. After he’s taken samples, he’ll let her go.’
She stood almost hitting her head on the top of the cage. ‘Don’t you see what he’s doing? Let the child go, and he can have mine instead.’
‘You’re too old. He’s been working with mature rats and mice and transfusing them with the blood of younger animals, rejuvenating them. That’s what he’s doing for me. If it works, it’ll be a breakthrough for mankind.’
Again, Bette made to leave.
‘Not if he’s killing children.’
Her shoulders shaking, the mother froze and didn’t turn, but she was listening.
‘He’s not taking the odd sample and releasing them,’ she shouted. ‘He drains the girls completely and dumps their bodies. So far, he’s killed at least four girls. There may be even more.’
Bette made a small sound in the back of her throat and came over and faced her, only feet apart but separated by the wire. ‘My son wouldn’t do that. He’s a scientist and dedicates his work to helping mankind. He wants to preserve life, not end it.’
‘I was there when he dumped the body of one of his victims in an alley.’
Not wanting to believe he would kill, Bette raised her voice, ‘Without them, he can’t treat me. I’m already feeling and looking better, and it allows me to have a life again…’
She tried to reach through the wire. ‘Free us now while you’ve got the chance. None of this is your fault. Is it worth killing them? Can you live with that on your conscience? Get the keys and let her go.’
Bette hesitated and glanced at the ring of keys hanging on the wall.
‘Keep me locked up but let her go.’ She redoubled her efforts. ‘She has a family waiting for her.’
And Becky sobbed again, and the mother frowned with guilt. ‘I can’t,’ she said. ‘He’ll be angry with me.’
‘You’ll be helping him, maybe saving his life,’ she said, changing tack.
‘How?’ Bette frowned in concentration.
‘Told you I work with the StatPol, and I’m not lying. Do you think they don’t know I’m here? They’ll be checking my chip right now for my location. They’re probably on their way and if they find out what you’ve been doing…’
For a moment, Bette considered her options.
‘And that means?’
‘Deletion,’ Bette croaked and shuddered.
‘If you act now and let Becky go, I can testify that you both wanted to help, and they’ll sympathise. After all, he does a vital job for them.’
Bette paused. ‘You really are a cop?’
‘If you let me, I’ll show you my badge. It’s in the car.’
The woman shuffled over to the wall and leant against it as if that was all that was supporting her. ‘What will happen to me?’
‘Nothing, you came with me to rescue Becky and persuaded your son to give himself up. Anyway, you’re merely part of a scientific experiment and ignorant of his work.’
‘No, I didn’t know.’ Her breath was heavy as a growing panic flowed through her. ‘If I free you, will they let us live?’
‘Definitely.’ She pulled on the wire. ‘Free Becky first and then me before they arrive. Quick now! If they find us in cages, you’ll lose any chance of freedom.’
On the verge of tears, Bette shuffled over to where the keys hung on a hook, but she was shaking and dropped them. ‘I can’t do this to Dudley.’ She broke down. ‘All his years of research would be lost.’
‘You must, it’s the right thing to do,’ she yelled. ‘Quick, I can hear them coming. This is your last chance.’
The woman fell to her knees and groped in the dark. ‘I can’t find them.’ She panicked and sobbed and then her fingers fastened onto cold metal and she pushed herself up into a standing position, clutching the keys above her head in triumph. ‘Got them.’
Chapter Forty-Four
‘I enjoyed the lecture,’ Headlock said, concentrating on how to get out of his predicament and save Becky and Solo. ‘What have you got planned for us?’
Skarab gripped the steering wheel harder and didn’t reply.
‘Do you intend draining our blood, you must have enough to float the Titanic?’ Any movement caused the handcuffs to bite into the soft flesh of his wrists.
There’s too much beer in mine.
‘No.’ Skarab slowed and stared at him. ‘This will be a scientific first. As for the girls, theirs was a more mundane procedure but a necessity that unfortunately resulted in their deaths.’
‘Try telling that to their parents.’
‘As a scientist, I don’t kill for the sake of it,’ he sighed. ‘There’s always a legitimate reason. If a lab rat dies in an experiment, I didn’t kill it. It died in the pursuit of science. Everything is not always black or white, you must realise that by now.’
‘Like life or death?’
‘There are many possibilities if you open your mind to them.’
‘What’s the experiment?’ If he kept him talking, he might reveal something that would give them a chance of escaping.
As if considering what he could say that Headlock might understand, the scientist hesitated. ‘As you probably know, space and time are the same, and what’s happening with you and Solo is a perfect example of the phenomenon. It’s difficult to grasp, but I won’t explain it fully until we are underway as nothing must interfere with the experiment.’
‘That’s something to look forward to.’ The man was deranged, and that made him unpredictable, and he’d have to pick the right moment.
‘When I do, you’ll understand your special connection with Solo, and it will be something of wonderment.’
He doubted it. ‘Don’t suppose saying I had an important appointment would change anything?’
Skarab chuckled. ‘A sense of humour helps.’
‘What if I offered you a deal?’
‘Go on.’ The scientist seemed amused.
‘I’ll go through with the experiment if you let Becky go.’
Skarab gave a reedy laugh. ‘You’re not in a position to make offers and anyway, it’s too late. Once you crossed over, everything was predestined. You’re beyond rescue. It’s as if you’ve fallen into a deep well and life carries on around you, but no one knows you’re in there.’
Skarab’s self-confidence gave him a sliver of hope. He’d seen it many times in the ring. An opponent thinks he’s so much in control he becomes overconfident and that contributes to his downfall. ‘What was your reason for killing the girls?’
A theatrical groan emanated from the scientist. ‘How often must I say I didn’t kill them? They were specimens that expired during my research.’
Another attempt to wriggle free proved useless.
The scientist raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re wasting your time.’
‘What did you do with their blood?’
A flash of disdain crossed Skarab’s face. ‘There have been lurid reports in your media about vampires and such rubbish.’ He shook his head.
‘As a scientist, I’ve spent years in this area of research.’ There was a pause before addressing him with the intensity of a zealot. ‘I’ve discovered how to halt cognitive impairment and create new brain cells.’
He waited to see if he understood. ‘Halting memory loss, dementia and even sometimes reversing it completely. And perhaps more exciting, my results suggest we may also be able to slow the onset of some diseases like cancer.’
While it sounded impressive, he couldn’t conceal his cynicism. ‘How many do you have to kill to keep your friends alive?’
His ignorance was dismissed with the wave of a hand. ‘That’s not the point.’ Only a finger-wagging was missing. ‘My research will lead to
the manufacturing of synthetic elements to overcome those medical problems. Research of this kind goes back several centuries, but I’m making the leap from using animals to humans.’
Again, Skarab glanced at him. Despite getting no encouragement, he explained his research started with animals, mainly rats and mice, and many died, but they died in the name of science, so his conscience was clear.
He said there was an old saying ‘It’s time for new blood’ when football teams needed an influx of fresh talent. And that was truer than he might think. It was the key to achieving significant changes in the body. In experiments with mice, in particular, the results over several years had been amazing.
Although he attempted to concentrate, he was battling against the music in his head. The scientist told him his work entailed transfusions from younger mice into much older rodents. And in testing, it rejuvenated the older mouse and its mentality improved, and degeneration halted.
‘The younger blood reduced the size of the enlarged, aged hearts and improved the tissue, and the flow improved. In most cases, it rejuvenated the hippocampus, which is at the front of the brain and manages memory.’ He tapped his brow. ‘And the next step was to continue the research with humans.’
‘That’s why you need a regular supply?’
The scientist looked at him as though that was an unnecessary question. ‘It may appear cold-blooded to you, but it isn’t.’
‘Who got the blood?’
‘My mother was the recipient.’
‘You killed those girls so your mother could regain her youth?’ He couldn’t contain his disbelief.
Taking his eyes off the road for longer than he should, Skarab stared almost daring Headlock to challenge him. ‘I wanted my work to benefit mankind, and my mother, Bette, was the perfect recipient. She showed signs of the onset of dementia that makes you susceptible to the diseases of old age. And I wanted to help her.’ Then in a softer voice, ‘She can be a mendacious woman, but I can’t imagine what it would be like to live without her.’ The scientist’s bottom lip quivered at the thought.