Djinnx'd (The Tamar Black Saga #1)

by Nicola Rhodes

  ‘God, it was terrible. I didn’t know the world was so awful.’

  ‘Now you know how I feel all the time.’

  Denny winced. ‘Really?’

  ‘Never mind, I’m used to it – hungry?’

  ‘Now you mention it, I’m starving. I could eat a scabby horse between two rusty bread vans.’

  ‘Well, if that’s what you really want ...’

  ‘Er, how about a steak sandwich. No, on second thoughts, cheese.’

  ‘Can do.’

  Denny scanned the room. ‘A traffic cone?’ he said. ‘What the hell? And what’s that?’

  ‘Policeman’s helmet.’

  Denny actually scratched his head. ‘But – I didn’t go out last night – did I? Or did I?’

  Tamar grinned slyly; she had not been able to resist it. Denny shook his head and turned his attention to the food. He looked up with his mouth full. ‘What are you doing with that computer?’ He said through a mouthful of sandwich (you know you have to wonder sometimes what she saw in him).

  ‘Transferring funds into your account.’

  ‘What?’ he spluttered, spraying crumbs all over the table.

  ‘Like you said last night – computer fraud.’

  ‘I never.’

  ‘Oh yes you did, Slammer heard you too. Want me to go and wake him up?’

  ‘I would never ...’

  ‘You did actually, but you can relax, I’m only kidding, I knew you didn’t mean it. But it gave me an idea.’

  ‘It’s not illegal is it?’

  ‘No, I’m looking for something.’

  ‘On the Internet?’

  ‘No, not exactly, on the Aethernet actually.’

  ‘The what?’ Denny got up and looked at the screen. ‘What is this? I’ve never seen anything like this before.’

  ‘Virtual reality files – archives.’

  ‘Archives?’

  ‘I’m looking for disused files.’

  ‘Disused files?’

  ‘Are you going to repeat everything I say, or are you going to make yourself useful?’

  ‘Useful?’

  Tamar narrowed her eyes (just like mother used to do). ‘Are you doing this on purpose?’

  ‘On purpose?’ said Denny, predictably.

  For answer, Tamar manifested another smoking phial. It was, if anything, even more toxic looking than the other one.

  ‘Do you need sobering up again?’

  ‘No, no, I’m sorry. What are we doing? What do computer files have to do with anything?’

  As Tamar explained, Denny was stunned.

  ‘Well, where did you think virtual reality came from?’ she asked ‘Did you think humans invented it?’

  ‘Er, yes.’

  ‘Well, I suppose so, in a way, but we came up with it first. Only we call it magic.’

  ‘So, you’re telling me that magic comes from computers?’

  ‘Not originally. Look, I suppose you could say that everything in the universe is created from computer code – of a sort. All life, natural and supernatural, although that’s a massive oversimplification, but it’ll do. And everything and everybody has its place in the matrix, okay? Right, now you could say that there are two main divisions – reality, that’s here, that’s you, and virtual reality, that’s me – magic, okay? Okay, well, when humans invented computers they inadvertently accessed the universal matrix because they unconsciously mimicked it. So now we can make use of it too ... no, go back a bit. Everything that exists, real or unreal, has a file.’

  ‘In a computer?’

  ‘No, we just use a computer to access it. Anyway, some files become disused, when things cease to exist. But the space they inhabited is still there, and you can use it; it’s just sitting there.’

  ‘Cool – I think. So, is there a dinosaur file?’

  ‘In the archives – what we’re looking for are deleted files, stuff that never happened – so to speak.’

  ‘But – if the files are deleted …?’

  ‘The stuff that was in the files is deleted; the actual files are still there.’

  ‘Okay, and why do we want to find these files?’

  ‘Oh, didn’t I say? I think these numbers are a file number. I think Kelon’s hiding in a deleted file.’

  ‘So, you’re hacking the universe?’

  ‘No, you are, I’m no good at this stuff.’

  ‘Oh? I see, and you just assume that I am? Just because I’m boring and physically unimpressive and I have no friends, I must be a computer geek. Is that it?’

  ‘Aren’t you?’

  ‘Well, yes, I mean no, but I can probably do it. Move over, give me the numbers and get me a coffee. Then leave me alone.’

  ‘Okay, and – Denny.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I don’t think you’re boring, I think you’re very clever.’

  ‘Tamar.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Coffee.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Denny stared at the screen. It looked weird, as if it was alive. There was a pentagram spinning in the middle of the screen. ‘Magic files,’ he thought, ‘wow!’

  ‘Hey!’ he looked up, struck with a thought. ‘So, you do think that I’m weedy, unimpressive and unpopular then?’

  ‘Yes, but so what?’

  ‘Oh – I suppose it doesn’t matter.’

  ‘No – it doesn’t. That’s just surface stuff, look at me, totally gorgeous, extremely powerful – everybody loves me, and I’m a horrible person.’

  ‘Not anymore.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘Just mildly unpleasant – but getting better.’

  Tamar threw a cushion at him – not entirely lightheartedly.

  ‘Look,’ she said, ‘I’ve met plenty of big, handsome men who had ugly little souls. I like you the way you are.’

  ‘Still, do you think I should start working out or something?’

  ‘Only if you want to. I thought vanity was my thing.’

  ‘Oh, it is, along with ...’ He caught her eye and subsided. ‘Where’s that coffee? I’d better get on.’

  Denny was so absorbed by the time the coffee arrived, that he never noticed it; it went cold, so did the next one. The hot dog she got him at one went stiff at the edges, and the mustard congealed.

  At three-seventeen, he yelled. ‘I’m in.’

  ‘Stop and eat something.’

  ‘No, I have to find the files. I thought I could just type it in, but I can’t – I have to search for the deleted files first. I don’t think you’re supposed to find them. She doesn’t mean to be found, does she?’

  At five-twenty-two, he said. ‘Got them – deleted files. You know I was wondering – could Askphrit be hiding in one of these?’

  ‘Yes, it’s possible, but I doubt it, and even if he was, we wouldn’t know which one.’

  ‘Damn, I have to scroll through ... oh no I don’t though. Search engine, okay.’ He typed in the number.

  ‘Now we just have to wait.’ He leaned back. ‘Christ, I’m starving.’

  Tamar pointed wryly to the desiccated hot dog.

  ‘Okay, maybe I’m not that hungry.’

  ‘How long will this take?’

  ‘How can I know? It’s a pretty unusual system; it could take until yesterday for all I know.’

  ‘Well, come and have some proper food, and a drink.’

  ‘Beer?’ said Denny, hopefully. Tamar pursed her lips.

  ‘Okay, okay, coke then, you’re not my mother you know.’ He stood up stiffly. ‘You know, I never thought I’d say this, but I could use some exercise.’

  ‘Food,’ ordered Tamar.

  They turned away from the screen, and the computer beeped. They both snapped their heads round; the screen was flashing.

  >

  ‘This is it,’ breathed Denny.

  ‘Not yet,’ Tamar said.

  ‘We just have to press “Enter” to access th
e file,’

  ‘I can’t,’ she told him bluntly. ‘I’m not ready, and neither are you. Eat something, have a drink. It’ll still be there in half an hour.’

  Denny protested, but Tamar won – for a short while, anyway. All too soon Denny was fed and watered, and they were standing in front of the screen.

  ‘Ready?’

  ‘Not really.’ She was pale and twitchy.

  ‘Too bad,’ he said callously and he hit “Enter” as Tamar watched with a feeling of foreboding that she could not have explained.

  flashed up on the screen.

  Denny and Tamar stared at each other.

  ~ Chapter Twenty ~

  Denny was doing a pretty fair imitation of a man at the end of his tether. ‘Under the clock, under the clock,’ he muttered as he paced the floor. ‘You were right, it’s impossible, what clock? I mean, how many billions of sodding clocks are there in the world?’ And we might already be too late.’ He stopped pacing suddenly with a skid and collapsed into a chair. ‘I give up,’ he said, ‘it’s too hard.’

  Tamar bit her lip and said nothing. He looked utterly defeated. It frightened her a little.

  He suddenly leapt out of the chair and started pacing again. ‘I mean, we’re so close,’ he ranted. ‘I’m such a fool. I should have been concentrating. She gave me that clue, and what was I doing at midnight? I was damned well drunk wasn’t I?’ he answered his own question.

  Tamar relaxed a little; he was clearly working up to something. A stroke probably, but she’d rather have him like this. ‘You’re right,’ she said soothingly, ‘it’s too hard, even if you’d been thinking about it, and I wasn’t either, it doesn’t mean anything, it wasn’t your fault.’

  This well-meaning speech only seemed to infuriate Denny further. ‘If I’d been thinking about it, maybe I’d have worked it out. There’s no excuse.’

  ‘There may still be time’

  Denny ignored this. ‘Anyway,’ he ranted on, ‘if there’s a password, why couldn’t they just give it to us, why all this bleeding mystery, it’s bleeding ridiculous. And you know what? You know what?’

  ‘I’m sure you’re going to tell me’ murmured Tamar. ‘I’m on the edge of my seat,’ she drawled more audibly.

  Denny spun. ‘You were right,’ he announced. ‘It’s impossible; there’s no way to solve it.’ He sank back down in the chair. He ran his hands through his hair in a gesture of weary resignation. ‘What time is it?’ he asked suddenly, apropos of nothing.

  Tamar was startled. ‘Um,’ she glanced at the clock on the mantel, ‘half past five.’

  ‘Right, so that’s – six and a half hours till midnight,’ he grinned. ‘We’d better get on with it.’

  ‘What? But you just said… oh okay.’

  ‘Just because it’s impossible is no excuse for not doing something,’ said Denny. ‘The impossible I can do. The possible may take a little longer.’

  * * *

  ‘I just don’t know where to start,’ said Denny hopelessly.

  ‘Well, in those old movies it was usually the clock in a railway station, wasn’t it?’

  ‘How does that help us?’

  ‘Well…’ Tamar shrugged.

  ‘Anyway,’ he continued, ‘going off past events, I think that’s a little too obvious. I mean it’s more likely to be a play on words or something, isn’t it? If I could just figure out what it means…’

  ‘“Under the clock”,’ she said, ‘what else could it mean? It’s not exactly ambiguous is it?’

  ‘We’ve got to stop asking each other useless questions.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Okay,’ Denny gritted his teeth, ‘let’s just get on with it. We start looking for large clocks that a person can stand under. I mean, even if it’s wrong, well, everything we’ve done so far has been wrong hasn’t it? You said it yourself; we have to go through all the wrong solutions to get to the right one.’

  ‘But…’

  ‘No buts – come on.’

  ‘Hmm, we seem to be against the clock, no pun intended, on this one. And like you said, we might already be too late.’

  ‘Well, in that case it doesn’t matter does it?’ he said, shortly. ‘Now start with the most obvious. What’s the most famous clock in the world?’

  ‘Er, Big Ben?’

  ‘Okay, and…’

  ‘I think it is anyway,’ she said thoughtfully, ‘I mean, I don’t know. I expect there are people in Muntab who’ve never heard of it.’

  ‘No, but it’s the first one you happened to think of. This is our quest after all. It’ll do for a start.’

  ‘But we won’t know if it’s the right one until midnight, and if it isn’t it’ll be too late,’ objected Tamar.

  ‘Until midnight tomorrow, there’s always another midnight. As long as we’re working on the assumption that we’re not too late now, then we can assume that it’s never going to be too late.’

  Tamar thought about this. ‘I think you’re right,’ she said, after a minute, ‘after all, it’s probably midnight already in Muntab. It’s always midnight somewhere.’

  ‘Exactly, it’s probably midnight yesterday, somewhere. It’s not the same time everywhere, so I’m guessing that any midnight will do, once we’ve found the right clock.’

  ‘I hope you’re right.’

  ‘Okay, so there’s that. And also we ought to work on the assumption that we’re totally wrong and “under the clock” is some obscure play on words, like a cryptic crossword clue. You can work on that; you have a twisted mind you ought to be good at that. Besides, you understand how these people think better than I do.’

  Tamar let that one go – for now, and merely asked. ‘So, what are you going to do?’

  ‘I’m going on the Internet. I’m going to check out time zones and famous large clocks

  ‘And spy movies,’ he added after a moment’s thought.

  ‘Why, spy movies?’

  ‘To see which clock the spies met under of course.’

  ‘Oh, of course. Wait a minute, though, if you do that, you’ll lose the file.’ She gestured to the computer screen still flashing

  >>PASSWORD PLEASE…

  ‘Good point, well, zap me up a laptop, you can do that, right?’

  ‘I’m not supposed to be doing all this really,’ Tamar grumbled. ‘You’re supposed to wish for stuff like this.’

  Denny raised an eyebrow. He thought it made him look like Mr. Spock. It did not.

  ‘What’s the matter with your eye? You seem to have a tic.’

  ‘Ahem, now we have just under six hours before we have to check out Big Ben, so let’s get on with it, shall we?’

  * * *

  It was 11.30 when Denny finally said, ‘I think that’s all for now, how are you getting on?’

  ‘Not so great, I don’t think crosswords are my forte.’

  ‘Well, what have you come up with?’

  ‘Well…’ she looked at the pile of paper in front of her, all covered in scribbled out writing.

  ‘Nothing, actually.’

  Denny took this calmly. ‘Okay,’ he said, then there’s probably nothing to find that way. It was worth a try.’

  ‘You never expected it to work did you?’

  ‘Not really. I don’t expect what I’ve been doing to work either, but we have to work the problem. I think I’m getting the hang of this stuff now you see. What always happens?’

  He answered his own question. ‘We fool around for hours or days or whatever, getting nowhere, until the answer just pops up out of nowhere. But it only works if we try.’

  ‘Maybe we’ve just been lucky up to now.’

  ‘No such thing as luck,’ said Denny dismissively. ‘Anyway, I reckon we try out Big Ben tonight, and then all the railway stations in England next, one by one. And then if that still hasn’t worked we move on to Europe. I’ve got a list and the time zones for the major cities for a star
t.’

  ‘Oh my God.’

  ‘I know, I know. If you’ve got any better ideas…’ he held his hands out.

  Tamar shrugged.

  ‘You know, you might try and be a bit more enthusiastic. I’m not doing all this for the good of my health, you know.’

  ‘I know; I’m sorry.’

  ‘What did you say?

  ‘I said I’m sorry.’

  ‘Blimey! Wonders will never cease. You’re sorry, you’re sorry, you?’

  ‘Very funny,’ she said dryly. ‘Shall we get on with it then? What time is it now?’

  * * *

  Kelon paced the chamber agitatedly. ‘They are getting too close. I blame you for this, little man. How did they get this far? They should never have got this far. Do you realise that if they find the password, they will be upon me?’

  Since this was clearly a rhetorical question, the little man did not bother to venture a reply. He was more concerned with how the hell Kelon had found out how far they had got without his help.

  ‘How could you let this happen? Never mind, they will not find the password. Ha! Even now, they are standing under Big Ben in the pouring rain. Fools, they have no understanding.’

  Kelon must have another spy in the ranks, one at least as efficient as himself. This was a disturbing thought.

  Kelon seemed to read his mind. ‘You should have told me how far they had got, it is as well that others are not so slack as you seem to have become.’

  ‘My liege…’

  ‘No matter, no matter,’ said Kelon expansively. ‘What’s done is done, they will get no further; they have no idea how to reach the password, that it evident. And soon, if your information is correct, they will run out of time. “It” will get her, and all my problems will be over.’

  Another disturbing thought. Kelon was right. The little man bit his lip anxiously; it was all going wrong.

  Kelon was now convinced into a better mood and sat down, smiling in a satisfied manner. ‘Soon, it will all be over, and we can go back to normal, heh, my friend?’

  ‘I’m not your friend, you overgrown, bumptious, larcenous fraud,’ thought the little man, but he kept this thought to himself, naturally.

  * * *

  ‘Strike one,’ was all Denny could be drawn into saying, before throwing himself into bed, fully dressed and still soaking wet.

  Tamar stared moodily at the computer screen; so near and yet so far. Damn!

  She sat down at the table and pulled the papers that she had been working on toward her. ‘Okay, under, under – beneath, below? Well they meant the same thing didn’t they? She pulled out a dictionary. So – “under”? – okay there was “subordinate to, less than” in other words, “less than the clock”? Nope. What about “clock”? Well, it was slang for a speedometer – no. Also, a person’s face – even worse. A dandelion clock?’ Tamar swept the paper off the table in frustration. She realized that she was getting ridiculous “Dandelion clocks” indeed, as if there were not millions of them.