by L. A. Larkin
An ancient station wagon appeared in the slow lane. She could just make out a female driver; the car was packed to the ceiling with boxes. Serena stepped out in front of it, yelling for help. The car slowed to a halt a few metres ahead. A shaggy mop of hair popped out of the driver’s window.
‘Need a ride?’ called the woman.
‘Yes. I’ve got to get out of here.’
‘Get in,’ she said without hesitation and her head disappeared inside the car. The passenger door swung open.
Serena got in, and faced a darkly tanned woman in her forties, wearing many wooden beads. Her eyes widened very slightly as she took in Serena’s dirty state.
‘Please drive. I have to get away from him.’
The woman accelerated hard, the old car spluttering with the effort. Serena craned her neck to check for Ben but couldn’t see him. Perhaps he was dead.
‘Can you go any quicker?’
‘I’ll go as fast as I can.’
But they were already doing one hundred kilometres an hour and the car was groaning under the strain. They sat silently for a few seconds, Serena staring straight ahead at the lowering sun, willing the car to go faster. The woman glanced at her.
‘Where’re you going?’ she asked, flicking back her thick mop of curls.
‘Channel One.’
‘Channel One?’
‘They’re in North Rocks.’
‘I know where they are, but you sure you’re okay? You look pretty shook up to me.’
‘Can you take me there? Please?’ Serena grasped the woman’s arm, sheer desperation on her face. ‘It really is a matter of life or death … Mine.’
‘It’s kinda out of my way but I guess I could.’
‘Thank you. Thank you.’
‘I’m Danielle, by the way.’
‘Serena.’
‘Who you running from?’ Danielle asked, looking at the road ahead.
She didn’t answer.
‘You hurt?’
‘No, I’m just a bit dusty. Danielle, do you have a phone I can use?’
‘Sure, darl. Use away.’ Danielle picked up a very scratched mobile phone. ‘It works fine. Just doesn’t do all the fancy stuff.’
Serena dialled Baz’s mobile. He answered immediately.
‘Baz. It’s Serena.’
‘Where’ve you been? What happened? I’m at Gloria Jean’s but I haven’t seen Johno.’
‘John isn’t going to come.’ She said nothing for a few long seconds, then said, ‘I’m so sorry, Baz.’
‘What do you mean? Where is he? Why didn’t you meet me?’
‘He … won’t be coming. He’s dead,’ she whispered, fighting hard to hold back her tears.
‘No, not Johno. No way.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said faintly, her eyes blurred with gritty tears.
‘Tell me this isn’t true,’ he pleaded. His voice had a shrill edge to it. ‘Tell me he’s alive.’
‘I …’
Serena could hear in the background the clank of coffee cups and people talking, but Baz was silent.
‘Baz?’ she said.
‘Where … is he?’
‘I don’t know, I’m sorry. I can’t say much now, I’m with someone. But they may come after you too. Don’t go home. Go to the police and tell them everything you know.’
‘I want to know where he is,’ Baz yelled. She could hear that he was panicking.
‘Go to the nearest police station, please, Baz. They’ll find John. Please, Baz. You need to do this.’
‘What I need is my brother back.’
And the line went dead.
‘I’m sorry, Danielle. I guess this all sounds very bad. Someone I loved very much was killed today,’ was all she could say, smudging away her tears with her dirty hands.
‘Sounds to me like you’re in a whole heap of shit and you need some help.’
‘It’s best we pretend you never heard that conversation.’
‘What conversation?’
Silence.
‘You wanna go to the cops? I can take you there.’
‘No, please. I have to get to Channel One. When I’m there and I’ve done what I need to do, then I’ll call the cops.’
‘You got something on these guys who are after you, don’t you? You’re going to get it on the news,’ said Danielle, nodding at her in awe.
‘Something like that.’
‘You’re a brave woman,’ she said, smiling at Serena.
‘Or stupid.’
‘Nah. You gotta stand up to the bullies. It’s taken me seven years to do it myself. Seven bad years of marriage to a bully. So now I’m on my way to start a new life, alone, someplace where he can’t find me.’
‘You’re the brave one.’
‘We’ll see. So, Channel One?’
‘Yes,’ said Serena, looking at her watch, brushing the dust off its face. It was 4.10 pm. She had one hour and thirty-five minutes before the DVD went blank.
‘Okay, darl. I’ll get you there, but you can’t go walking into Channel One looking like that. You gotta clean yourself up a bit. Take a look,’ Danielle said, pulling down the sun visor in front of Serena and revealing a small mirror.
She had a cut along her cheekbone that was caked in dried blood. Dust clung to her face, except where tears had left streaks. Her bottom lip was swollen, bruised by the gun. Her clothes were grimy and torn. Serena touched her cut cheek and winced at the pain.
‘I want you to climb into the back seat and open the striped laundry bag. It’s got clean clothes in it. Take what you need from there and get changed.’
Serena clambered into the back seat, squeezing through a narrow gap between some sealed boxes, a suitcase and a lamp.
‘And take a towel from that same bag and clean up your face. Here’s some water, darl.’
‘Thanks.’
Wetting the towel, Serena dabbed her face carefully, the cut stinging as she wiped away the dried blood. Next, she washed her hands and arms.
‘That’s better. You look almost human,’ joked Danielle, smiling at Serena through the rear-view mirror.
She squeezed Danielle’s shoulder in response, grateful for her warmth and generosity. Unzipping the striped bag, she found a white T-shirt and some faded blue jeans, slightly frayed. She and Danielle were a similar build, and the clothes were a pretty good fit. She climbed back into the front seat.
‘How can I ever thank you?’
‘No need.’
Chapter 61
It was almost 4.50 pm. Serena could only hope she’d find David Tuckett before 5.45 pm, when the DVD would become useless. Danielle drove accelerator to the floor, but time was slipping away.
‘Nearly there.’
They turned off the freeway and found themselves in an industrial park dominated by two buildings, like glass tornadoes ten storeys high, linked by walkways. Channel One. Danielle pulled up outside the main entrance.
Serena jumped out and peered in the open window to say goodbye. Danielle held out a one-hundred-dollar note.
‘You’ll need money. Take it. It’s a gift.’
Danielle sped off, dropping the money, before Serena could refuse. She picked it up.
The glass doors slid back to reveal a reception desk manned by two beautiful women and one robot. Serena had heard about these robots but never seen them in action before. Channel One had bought one as a gimmick and given it a lot of media coverage. Not too dissimilar from clothed crash dummies, their faces were made of malleable rubber so they could smile, and their mouths moved as they spoke. Their eyes, however, did not blink, so they stared through unnervingly lifelike eyeballs. Both women were busy, so Dan, the robot, addressed her.
‘Welcome to Channel One. How may I be of assistance?’
Behind the reception desk were thirty-one TV screens, covering each of Channel One’s thirty-one sister channels, all owned by the same conglomerate, Global News Matters Inc.
‘I need to see David Tuckett right
away. I have a story for him that can’t wait.’
‘Do you have an appointment with David Tuckett?’
‘No, I don’t but he’ll want to see me. I have an exclusive for him.’
‘I am sorry but you cannot see David Tuckett without an appointment.’
‘Listen, do you want to be responsible for denying this station the biggest news coup of the century?’
‘No, I do not want to be responsible for denying this station the biggest news coup of the century,’ the robot meticulously repeated. ‘But without an appointment, you cannot see David Tuckett.’
She took a deep breath.
‘Can I please speak to a person?’
‘Yes, of course.’
One of the beauties came to her assistance.
‘How can I help?’ she asked.
‘I must see David Tuckett urgently. I don’t have an appointment but please tell him I have evidence that Gene-Asis’ GM foods have caused the hepatitis S outbreak. Millions of people will die if a cure isn’t found and I know the source of the outbreak. I have to see him now. Time is running out.’ She eyed a clock on the wall: it was 5.04 pm. ‘And please hurry.’
‘I’ll call his assistant, Paula Day. What’s your name, please?’
‘Serena Swift.’
‘Paula, I have a Serena Swift in reception. She wants to see David right away … yes, I know, but she says she’s got evidence that Gene-Asis have caused the hepatitis S outbreak … certainly I will. Thanks, Paula.’
The receptionist looked at Serena.
‘Paula Day will see you at 6.30 pm, after the news has gone to air. David Tuckett is not available. You can visit our café, if you wish.’
‘No, 6.30 pm is too late,’ she yelled in exasperation. ‘I have to see him now.’
‘I’m sorry, Ms Swift, but that just isn’t possible.’
Calming herself, Serena tried again.
‘The evidence is on a disc. It erases itself after five hours. Those five hours are nearly up. It’s my only proof. Gene-Asis has committed terrible crimes. Please call David Tuckett and let me speak to him.’
The receptionist eyed one of the security guards.
‘I’m sorry, I cannot …’
Serena pretended to make her way to some seating and then dashed for the elevators. She had to find him. Before she could get there, her arm was grabbed. A second security guard barred her way.
‘You’re leaving right now, young lady.’
They almost lifted her above the ground as they swept her towards the exit.
‘Heather speaking … certainly,’ Serena heard. Then the receptionist called, ‘Stop! There has been a mistake. Please let Ms Swift go.’
The guards released her and she ran over.
‘He’ll see me?’ she asked.
‘Yes. Here’s your visitor’s pass. Take the elevator to the sixth floor where you’ll be met by Paula,’ beamed the beauty. Next to her stood the robot. His rubber face creased into a corpse-like, toothless grin.
Chapter 62
Serena was led into the untidiest office she’d ever seen. Every surface was strewn with papers, newspapers and manuscripts. Books were messily piled onto bookshelves. On the walls were framed awards for excellence in TV journalism. The air conditioning was on full blast. The room was freezing. A tall man with a crooked jaw and pockmarked skin stood up and shook her hand.
‘David Tuckett,’ he said, his lopsided mouth barely opening and his expression intensely serious. His shoulder was slightly lower on one side than the other, and he therefore appeared to be leaning slightly to the left at all times. She shook his hand, which was very cool and dry, his long fingers wrapping round hers. On a huge screen behind him ran Channel One’s current program. He gestured for her to take a seat at a round meeting table. Some double doors in the opposite wall were slightly ajar, the room on the other side in darkness. But she could just make out a boardroom table and chairs.
‘So, the world’s leading biotech company is behind the hep S outbreak, is it?’ he mocked. ‘You’ve got five minutes to convince me.’
He tapped his fingers on the polished desk’s surface.
‘Three billion people around the world eat GM foods primarily produced by Gene-Asis. Gene-Asis uses a specific virus, the Koch Bottlebrush Virus, in their genetic engineering process, which is passing through our stomach lining into our bloodstream. We all carry ancient viruses, which lie dormant. But, in some people, KBv is reactivating these ancient viruses; in this case, hepatitis S. Once activated, it becomes contagious and spreads like wildfire. I have proof Gene-Asis has known about this for years. Instead of stopping production, they’ve engineered new products which they hope will stop the reactivation. But their so-called cure has nasty side effects.’
He nodded, expressionless.
‘And how do you know all this?’
She held up the tiny DVD.
‘On here are two files. One is a scientific report on Gene-Asis’ Zimbabwean food trials. It proves the hep S link. It also proves that their GM food can cause severe birth defects. The other is the report on their solution—a new product line called Supercrop Ultra. This contains a blocker designed to prevent horizontal gene transfer. But it can cause malnutrition, as it reduces our ability to absorb the food’s goodness. They’re launching this in just two days’ time. They have to be stopped.’
He raised a greying eyebrow.
‘Really, Ms Swift, this sounds fantastical. I don’t believe a word.’
‘But I have proof.’
‘And I doubt it’s genuine. I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous.’
‘Mr Tuckett. We don’t have much time. This DVD will erase itself in forty minutes. Just look at it.’
‘Do you have hard copies or any other disc copies?
‘No, this is the only evidence. Please hurry.’
‘Give it to me,’ he said, stretching out his skinny arm.
‘I’ll take that.’ A hand snatched it from her, the perpetrator moving with confident ease. The double doors to the dark boardroom were now wide open. He perched on the front of David Tuckett’s desk waving the DVD in his hand like Chairman Mao waving his little red book. Bukowski.
She could hardly breathe. He had toyed with her, assaulted her, killed John, and wanted her dead. He now had the only weapon she had against him. Bukowski smiled smugly as he addressed David.
‘Thank you, David, for your cooperation. You will be receiving a number of highly prized news exclusives from us.’
‘Glad to be of assistance, Mr Bukowski. We look forward to getting them.’
David rose. Open-mouthed with disbelief, Serena managed to speak. ‘You’re surely not going to let him stop you breaking the biggest news story of all time?’
‘We don’t use fabrication,’ said David, frowning at her.
‘It’s all true. Look at the disc. Just read it …’
‘Calm yourself, Serena,’ Bukowski said. ‘Dave’s a happy man. The GNM empire, of which Channel One is the key player, will now receive the lion’s share of our global twenty-billion-dollar advertising spend, as well as some editorial coups thrown in for good measure.’
‘How can you walk out of here never knowing the truth?’ she screamed at David. ‘What if I’m right? Do you understand what this means? Hep S could kill millions. A whole generation of deformed babies will be born. All because you did nothing to stop it.’
David hesitated and looked at Bukowski, who shook his head very pointedly.
‘She’s a lying greenie militant, David. Gene-Asis is constantly under attack from people like her, with no understanding of the real science, of the rigorous testing we do. There is nothing but libellous material on this disc, I assure you.’
David nodded. ‘I have things to do,’ he said, leaving.
‘No, you can’t leave,’ she pleaded. ‘He tried to kill me. I’ll die if you leave me here.’
She had got hold of David’s shirtsleeve. He looked at Bukowski, a dark cl
oud crossing his face, his bushy eyebrows crinkled in a deep frown.
‘Has she been threatened? She has the right to free speech.’
Bukowski stepped forward. Serena, terrified of him, let go of David’s sleeve and moved away. Bukowski stood face to face with the editor. Shorter than David, he was still an intimidating presence.
‘You have my word that she will come to no harm.’
‘Of course,’ said David, slapping Bukowski on the arm in camaraderie. Without another look at Serena, he left her to her fate, shutting the door behind him.
She backed away from Bukowski. ‘Get away from me or I’ll scream.’
‘No, you won’t. If you scream, you’ll just make it worse.’
Unsure what to do, she halted her retreat and he began to circle her.
‘You weren’t very nice to Ben, were you?’ He clicked his tongue, tutting at her. ‘He’s very angry. I can only imagine what he’d do to you if I let him near you but, fortunately for you, he’s getting medical attention.’
He must have warned Bukowski I was coming here.
‘So, is another killer waiting for me outside? Or are you man enough to do it yourself?’ she challenged.
He stopped circling Serena and placed his face so close to hers that their noses almost touched. Despite trembling from head to foot, she defiantly stared back at him, refusing to blink. She would not give this man the satisfaction of seeing her fear.
‘Serena, it’s been fun, real fun,’ he breathed, ‘but I need to get back to the office. I have more important issues to attend to.’
‘You won’t get away with it. If not me, someone else will show you up for the lying, murderous bastard you are.’