“Hold that thought” says Simon. “Right, let’s have a large drink and then we can finish.”
“But,” shouts Beryl, “we’re only halfway through the agenda!”
Simon puts his head in his right hand, “yeah, but I am bored now. Let’s get on with what we agreed and then meet again in a couple of weeks. Don’t let me down, anyone, and get me a whisky, someone. Now” and he turns to Shaun. His voice gears up a notch. “Shaun, I cannot believe, I mean, I seriously cannot believe that you allowed John to be put into a position where, first, a policeman” (spitting out the word), “was allowed into his apartment, and then, even then, after that, you actually” (voice getting higher now) “walked out and allowed him to be interviewed” (hands in his hair) “by this policeman. I mean...”
Shaun looked down, I could actually see the sweat forming on his forehead. Strange. “Shala needs to speak to you right now” Simon finishes, and Shaun looks very nervous.
“Now John, we need to talk”, Simon continues in a much more affable tone, turning to me. He takes me by the arm and leads me to his own personal office. It’s not that large, but he has spent a lot of time getting it to where he wants it. The walls are panelled in ivory and crocodile skin.
We sit on the huge leather armchairs and watch the cityscape from the windows. Our drinks arrive, and gratefully I light up another cigarette.
“Right, John, you seem to be mixed up in all this, and I’m not sure why. Doesn’t matter though. What matters is that you need to lay your head low now for a few days. If this Detective Carver comes back, don’t talk to him. There’s no way he should get into your apartment again now that, the security concerns have been fixed. But whatever happens don’t talk to him, OK?”
“Yeah, no problem, “ I sigh. Not a hardship, I didn’t like him anyway. The whisky is extremely good.
“Second, you need to get on with the next project. Have you seen the news recently?” he doesn’t wait for an answer, he doesn’t even pause. “The Chinese are destroying everyone, everything, the balance has gone too far the other way. We need to support its equalisation.”
I nod, and say, "Erm."
"You do understand what I'm talking about, right?"
"Erm..."
"OK John. Right." he props himself up in the chair, takes a long slow drink, and starts to talk. Slowly.
"Right. We sold the technology to the Chinese. You remember, right?"
"Yeah, yeah, of course" I say quickly.
"And you've seen the news, I take it?"
"Yeah, of course, the news. Can I have another drink?"
"Things out of control? Indestructible armies? Threats of nuclear retaliation? You've seen this, I take it?"
"That was us? Cool."
"Not so cool, really. You see..."
“Couldn't’ we just sell the technology to the enemy?” I say suddenly ask, but Simon just laughs.
“First, we have a total exclusivity agreement with them. They would destroy us. I know they want to destroy you, even now, but at least it’s limited to that.” That’s a little comforting.
He gets up, in his stride now and walks to the enormous window. “Second, it would destroy the capital we invested. Everyone would get it, we wouldn’t be able to control it, it would be worth nothing. But” and he shakes his head, “but – as a last resort, yes we could do this. Total nuclear conflict and destruction of conflicting forces are not in our interest. There would be no capital to be gained, and we would have nothing left to bargain with. So, yes, we could. However –“ and he waits, for me to speak I guess. How long has it been since I had a happy pill?
“However,” I say...
"However..." he carries on, "John, we could get a way out, couldn't we... We could use..."
"We could use?"
"We could use Project..." Simon sighs, and hands me a little package with a smiley face on it. I rip it open and throw the pill into my mouth, washing it down with the whisky.
“We could use Project Beta!" I laugh.
“Exactly!” and he claps me on the back, "so get to it!" Gratefully I rise, ready to go.
“Oh, one more thing” he says, just as I am leaving, and I turn back.
“Stay in your apartment, John. Don’t leave. We’ve set up the lab upstairs for you to work, everything’s there that you need, you will get a fresh set of subjects whenever you want. Anything else you want, food, drink, drugs, hookers, just dial nine. Just don’t leave the apartment, leave what’s her name, Ruth, alone for a while. It’s too risky, OK?”
“OK” I answer resignedly, and then a thought hits me, “what about Shala?”
“Shala?” he laughs. “She’s asexual. No interest at all, why do you think she’s so uninhibited? Now, go, the limo’s downstairs.” He gives me a huge hug, and I leave, recovering my breath.
Downstairs I enter the limo. “To the Death Bar” I say to the driver. Simon’s right, but you’ve got to enjoy life.
Chapter 20
The Death Bar is pretty new. It’s been open about six weeks I think, or so I’m told, at least since the current conflict began. All along the walls are screens showing images of war, of people dying, screened over and over, the same thing. The floor is wet and sticky, the lights are so dim that you can’t really tell what’s down there. I fight my way to the bar, and order a Destruction Cocktail and a Jack Daniels. Although it’s completely packed, Ruth sits waiting for me at a high table, one of the spotlights highlighting us and turning her bleached hair into a darkened red shade. A screen in front of us is replaying the same black and white footage. A Japanese kid, wearing military uniform and a helmet, holds a pistol in his small hand. He’s holding it up towards the camera, he doesn’t really know what to do or how to use it, you can see that in his confused face, but nervously he fires, then fires again, six times. His expression, you can see, turns to fear as a hand reaches out suddenly, grabs his arm and in a sickening, silent twist, breaks it, almost rips it off, taking the pistol and turning it back to his forehead. Tears actually appear in this kid’s eyes, this kid who can’t be more than fourteen, and the image freezes on him for a second, on the fear and the eyes, then lets go and speeds up as the bullet explodes into his brain, blood splatters the camera and the image goes dark.
Ruth and I turn away and stare at each other. She, I think, almost looks distressed, just for that tiny moment. Then it’s gone and that cruel, wicked, seductive smile reappears. “So” she shouts above the noise, “you’ve got the Chinese sorted then”
I give her a questioning look. “What do you mean?”
“Well, forgive me for jumping to conclusions, but you show us that you’re immune to bullets, then suddenly this Chinese army turns up, indestructible and invincible, and starts causing havoc around the world. “
She pauses and sips her drink. “Can I ask you something, though? What happens, say, if you need surgery? I mean, is your skin, totally invincible?”
“There’s a reversal procedure” I say quietly.
“Ah. And what about weaknesses?”
“Weaknesses?”
“Never mind,” she answers. “So tell me about the Chinese”
I raise my eyes questioningly at her. “Tell me what it’s like,” she says. “The Chinese have this massive power, the only way people can stop them is, of course, the nuclear option, but of course, they can’t do that, so what happens?”
I ponder my Jack’s and quietly take a happy pill. I can feel it start to work, calming me, exciting me, liberating me, for a short while at least.
“What happens? What happens to whom?”
“Well,” she stutters. “I assume you... don’t want to kill everyone?”
I look at her, sigh and stretch my body. “No, we don’t want to kill everyone. I don’t actually want to kill anyone.” I ponder this as I’m saying it, and then add, just to clarify, “not that I actually care if anyone gets killed. It’s just what happens, it’s just the output, the product.”
&nb
sp; Ruth is really quite rock and roll, she throws back the rest of her Destruction Cocktail with a cheeky grin and waves at the bartender, who acknowledges her above all the noise, all the other people. I see a waiter trying to fight his way out, the cocktail balanced precariously on a silver tray. “I get your amorality, John. In fact, in some ways, I quite admire it. But you see the pictures around you, even in here! I mean, even in this dump, although the drinks” – she gratefully receives her new glass – “are damn good, even in this hellhole celebration, you can tell they don’t quite mean it, they’re celebrating cos they’re scared.”
“Even you” – I can’t believe she can drink a second one of those – “must get, just the tiniest bit affected.”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry. It’s not like that. Maybe I do, maybe I would get affected by those images, just like everyone else, just like you, just feel, for a second, sorry for those poor young fuckers. Maybe, I don’t know. Even if I did, it would be just like everyone else, and after my second sip I would have forgotten. But that’s not what you’re asking is it? You’re asking me if I feel responsible. Why? Because I developed it? Because I sold it for money? Lots of money?”
The same waiter, looking a little battered now, brings me another drink, doubly impressive as I hadn’t ordered one. I’m grateful anyway, especially as he leaves the bottle on the table.
“Why should I feel responsible? People make their own choices, and all I’ve done is give them an opportunity to do that. So far, the Chinese have just killed soldiers, well, mainly anyway, so what would it have mattered if we gave it to the enemy? You think it would have been any different. I’m just exploiting the power that God gave me, or at least allowed me, to use.”
Ruth’s staring at me with such a broad grin, that it makes me think of a few things. “My goodness, John, you’ve actually expressed an opinion. And even better, one that’s thought through, even if your logic is totally naive. I won’t even comment about what you said about God, I don’t know where that came from. You don’t really strike me as a believer. Mind you, you mentioned it in that speech you made when I first met you, I’d wanted to ask you about that but you never talk.”
“You don’t have to have morality to believe in God. May I?” and I take the remnants of her fourth Destruction Cocktail, and try a little. Not bad.
“You still have a problem with the Chinese though, right? However you want to dress it up. Go on, finish it, look they’re bringing me another.”
I can’t refuse. “Personally you mean? Well yes, though how do you know? Simon tells me that they’re after my blood, as apparently I shouldn’t have announced our invention at the ball. Shame, really, I was quite proud of that, I thought I did a good job.”
“Spectacular. You certainly got everyone’s attention, though it might have been different had I actually killed you.” She winks at me. We’re having to shout at each other now, the music and the dancing are getting closer, spilling out of the dance area into the drinking area, with the new, in vogue, Death Dance. I had heard about that, though not actually seen it before, the way that people act out final death throes in each other’s arms, to dark and heavy music. In some extreme clubs, they also use knives, the pain and blood adding to the authenticity. Or so I’ve heard.
“The Chinese are after your blood, then? Strange, they seem to be friendly enough.”
“What do you mean?” I ask. Ruth nods to her right, and winks at me. I turn my head slightly, and on the table next to us, sit six people, all young, all Chinese, all dressed in black leather trousers and black silk shirts, all smoking, all with crew cuts, and all looking at me and grinning. “Shit”.
“Would you like to dance?” Ruth asks. I touch a button on my phone. “Yeah, what the hell.”
Ruth gets up. I get up and they’re on me, I can’t say which one, they all look the same, but one is right next to me, I can smell his sour breath on my face and something poked in my back. “You’re leaving with us now” he hisses.
I can be quite cool. I stare at him in the darkness, then deliberately look down at his nondescript pistol. “You are serious aren’t you?” I say mockingly. “You know why your bosses want me?” Ruth is there, too, hands on her hips.
He snarls at me. “You too eh? You fucking too” and he shakes his head, but I have no idea what he’s talking about. “You’re just like the rest of them, just because I’m young, you’re just jealous. It’s like them, they don’t think I can do this, they make fun of me, just because I have less, I mean, I can do this job. You better believe me, don’t underestimate me, I will shoot you. Look in my eyes, you can see there, I am vicious.” And just to prove a point, he pokes me hard with the gun, which I have to admit, hurts a little. Just my luck to get some assassin with a chip on his shoulder.
I touch his arm, “No, look, you don’t understand..." and I wipe away the sweat from his face, "Go on”, I say, “go on, pull the trigger, see what happens, really I don’t mind.” I put my hand on his and we stare at each other for a second.slowly i am starting to put some pressure on him, slowly i am starting to squeeze the trigger, slowly i see his yellow eyes start to turn red but, I can see the lines of sweat run down his face as he's looking at me. Slowly, we are getting closer, suddenly he jerks his hand back and waves the gun at me. “I can, I’ll show you, I can”, he’s half shouting now. I notice absently that a few of the dancers have drifted over to see what’s going on.
“Well go on then”, I say, “it’s fine, show me.” And I do think, to be fair to him, that he’s about to, when he’s interrupted by one of his friends putting a hand on his shoulder. All of the rest of them have got up, and they’re sniggering. This is kind of a weird kidnap. And where are Shaun’s men? The second guy says “Hey, baby bro, don’t worry, let the men handle it from here”, pushing him gently aside. None of them look any older than him, but hey. The rest of them are suddenly around me, and they move quickly, before I can act, they have shackles on my hands, feet and neck, five of them, they’ve got me. They’re starting to drag me towards the exit, I’m protesting but there’s not a lot I can do. Quite a crowd has gathered now, and they part to allow the men access.
Then suddenly there’s a shot and everything stops, my captors turn and I think thank God, a bit late Shaun but at least you’re here. it’s not Shaun though, it’s not his men, it’s that first kid, it's Baby Bro and he looks really pissed off. He’s aiming his gun at one of my captors now. More people arrive, and you can sense the excitement building. A few people are videoing it.
“You knew, you bastards, didn’t you, you let me get up there and make a fool of myself, I can’t believe it, motherfuckers!”. He really is angry.
One of the guys (I’ll call him Man One, or Keith), he’s actually the guy who’s got the gun pointed at his head, raises his arms and starts, “Hey man, listen, it was just a little bit of fun, we know how you like to use your gun, we didn’t mean nothing by it...”
“Yeah, goddamn right I like using it”, Baby Bro screams and he actually shoots Keith, straight between the eyes. A little blood catches me in my eyes but I can’t move my hands, so I can’t wipe it off and it stings a little. These guys should have had my treatment before they arrived. A few cheers go up from the crowd as Keith slumps to the ground. Man Two, who’s holding the shackle to my neck (I’ll call him Keith now) lets go, which is a relief, and draws out a long thin blade, in the same movement, throwing it at Baby Bro, quite a skill, but not as much as BB, who actually catches the blade in his left hand, twists it and throws it back so quickly, that Keith doesn’t have time to react before it enters his throat and he falls, blood bubbling out of his mouth. I have to admit that Baby Bro, despite being a little sensitive, is really quite good. The audience appreciate it too, as quite a loud cheer goes up. As Baby Bro pauses to stem the blood from his left hand, a couple of the dancers actually grab Man Three (Keith) as he’s about to catch Baby Bro (definitely the hero now) unawares and whip off his head with a mean looki
ng sword. I have no idea where he was keeping that.
Baby Bro smiles and nods his thanks, before taking the sword, and slicing Keith in two, top to bottom, I pull back a little to avoid the right half hitting me, and I feel a little freer, there are only two people holding on to me now. The floor’s now quite sticky with blood, and Baby Bro slips and lands awkwardly, just managing to avoid impaling himself on the sword, but Keith One and Keith Two take the advantage, let go of me and jump on him, the three of them rolling into the blood. A few of the dancers join in, grabbing the aggressors and hitting them, stabbing them, whatever they can do with whatever they can find. The barman has joined now, wheeling in a state of the art video, capturing this no doubt for tomorrow’s feed.
More importantly, though, I’m free, for the moment at least, and I feel my hand being taken, and dragged, by, of course, Ruth, who whispers “time to leave, darling” to me as we exit into the dark, warm, summer air. She hails a taxi and we get in quickly, shooting off into the night.
Chapter 21
The energy’s there, the adrenalin’s rushing through us, we’re high, we’re drunk and excited and we're there, there and then, in the back of the taxi, oblivious to the driver as he accelerates somewhere.
I come up for air half an hour later, the taxi’s still moving, everything’s dark outside. A tray has opened out in front of me with a drink on it. I don’t really know what it is, but I take it gratefully, and sip as I feel Ruth next to me, greedily taking it from me. There’s a trill sound from my jacket pocket, as I reach inside for my phone, I notice the blood on my jacket, I can’t believe it, this jacket cost me a fortune.
“Hello?” my voice is croaky, I need to have another cigarette.
“John? John, is that you? Are you OK?” the voice sounds panicky.
“Hello Shaun” I sigh. “So what went wrong?”
“God I’m sorry. I’m really so, so, sorry. Thank God you’re OK. You are OK, aren’t you?” but he doesn’t wait to answer. “Please, John, please don’t tell Simon about this, he cut my little finger off cos of the last one, he’ll kill me this time, John, please don’t tell him!”. He really sounds upset.
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