Freedom Incorporated

by Peter Tylee

  Men were intrinsically flawed. There was something wrong with their assembly. Married or not, they all heeded the trumpet of their animalistic urges when she flirted. Natasha was endowed – or cursed as she sometimes though – with the type of body men dreamed of. It made them slow-witted and careless in her presence, which was why she’d proven such a success in her field. Nobody suspected such a stunningly gorgeous woman could harbour evil intent. She didn’t think UniForce knew she was a woman, which was just as well. How many female assassins do they employ?She often asked herself that question, usually at inconvenient moments such as when she was visiting her parents or when she went club hopping with her dwindling pool of unhitched friends.

  And that brought her thoughts full circle. Do I want to live an assassin’s life? Or keep the one I still have?Her life was rapidly approaching an impasse – she couldn’t have both. The issue nagged at her while she showered and changed. It wasn’t until she looked in the mirror and saw that she’d subconsciously dressed in work clothes that she knew the answer. Assassins didn’t wear black leather suits as the movie makers portrayed. She wore a seductive, low-cut dress that showed ample breast and left just enough to the imagination to make her alluring.

  She twirled, gigglinggirlishly.

  Always the adrenaline junkie, she chose the excitement of a rocketing assassination career over the prefabricated life her parents had aspired for her – and that her friends were now miserableliving.

  *

  Friday, September 17, 2066

  20:42 Andamooka, South Australia

  The aches were setting in.

  Dan knew that meant he’d under-budgeted for sleep, but he ignored the warning. He felt content for the first time in… How long? He didn’t know. His mind was pessimistically trying to warn him it was the lull in the storm but he shoved the thought aside and permitted himself to enjoy the feeling. It felt strange, contentment. He wasn’t happy. He could never be happy again. That slice of reality grated on a raw nerve; he wasn’t thrilled with the prospect of a joyless life. But you have to play with the cards the dealer gives you.It was his father’s voice, repeating one of his favourite sayings. Yet despite everything, the usual ache was absent. It felt like someone had scythed a great weight from his chest. He smiled – not the cold smile of recent times, a realsmile, one that warmed the room and radiated… contentment.

  It’s an improvement.Half of Dan’s mind was thankful for the reprieve. But it won’t last,the other half warned. He didn’t want to grow accustomed to contentment. He was wise enough to understand the consequences of withdrawal and subsequent magnification of his former misery.

  Earlier he’d cooked a glorious meal of baked vegetables and succulent roast lamb, which everyone except Samantha had thoroughly enjoyed. How was I supposed to know she’s a vegetarian?He mentally kicked himself. A good host would have asked!She’d accepted the baked potato and sacrificed pumpkin but politely avoided the lamb and gravy. He’d apologised, profusely. He had nothing else to offer save for a new species of fungus growing on a tomato in his fridge and he didn’t think that would tempt her. So he’d gone to his customary supermarket in Adelaide for supplies, alone. The others couldn’t risk using a portal for the time being. He’d purchased a choice selection of fruits and upon his return whipped up a delectable fruit salad. Samantha, utterly embarrassed, had flushed bright red.

  After dinner he’d flaked on the couch next to Jen where they’d chatted for nearly an hour before she fell asleep on his shoulder. He watched her sleep, hypnotised by the rhythm of her breath. The fact that his shoulder had cramped seemed a small price to pay. Even though he knew he had to rouse her, he delayed and procrastinated as the minutes fleeted past. She was so fragile. She reminded him of a delicate flower and he wanted to protect her from the scorching sun lest she shrivel and succumb to the thriving weeds like the ones on his property. An apparition wafted briefly to the edge of his mind, bringing the suggestion that she wasn’t as fragile as he imagined. And the ghostly thought made him draw another parallel between Jen and his deceased wife. Katherine was strong.Healing, it seemed, was a myth. Time had only augmented the hurt.

  He tensedhis shoulder and the rocking action woke Jen with a start.

  “What?” She sounded groggy.

  “You fell asleep.” Dan’s fatigue splintered his voice into a fractal of bass and baritone.

  “Oh.” She struggled to sit straight and shielded her eyes from the light. “What time is it?”

  Dan smiled again, as warmly as before. “Past your bedtime I think, come on.” He offered a hand, helped her up, and guided her to her bedroom – but refrained from helping any further. “I put a towel on your pillow.You probably remember where the bathroom is.”

  She nodded, still a bit dazed. “Thanks.”

  “Goodnight Jen.”

  “Night,” she said, smiling sincerely in reply.

  He pulled the door shut and drifted to his own bedroom, croaking a laugh when he heard the rattle of Cookie’s keyboard drifting from the study. Doesn’t that man ever rest?He wondered what could possess someone so completely that he or she would pass through all the barriers a human body naturally threw against such a foolhardy marathon.

  Then he remembered.

  And his spine stiffened.

  *

  The silence was eerie. It slithered through the trees and Dan tuned to listen for the ghosts he knew were hunting him. They’re out there… in the darkness.He couldn’t see anything; his night vision was destroyed. But he could feel them watching him, waiting for the right moment. He shook the feeling away, shivered, and began to march, obsessed with reaching his goal. It’s not far. But what lay between him and his destination terrified him. Whatever it was, lurking in the dark. It wasn’t human. But it wasn’t beast either. Dan knew it wanted to drink his liver juices, feast on his flesh, and cast him into the abyss for eternal torture.

  He swallowed his fear and stumbled forward, the undergrowth clawing at his boots and whipping his face. Razor-like thorns tore his clothes and shredded his skin. They gouged deep, broke from the vine, and remained fixed in his bloodied tissue for him to dig out later with his knife.

  A twig snapped to his right, perhaps 50 metres into the gloom, and he reworked his grip on his knife and steadied himself for the imminent attack. Fear clutched his windpipe and stole his breath while tensing his muscles to breaking point. Not like this.He gritted his teeth for the third and final assault on his mental reserves and commanded himself to keep moving – his only chance for survival. Run.His body obeyed. He sprinted, the blood deafening in his ears as he crashed through the bush. He waved his useless knife in front of his blind eyes, eyes that opened wide at a terrifying thought: I’m going the wrong way.He spun fast, but not fast enough, and he shattered his nose to a bloody pulp by crashing against a tree that he hadn’t seen until it was too late.

  He clutched at the stinging mass of pain in the middle of his face and spat at the taste of blood, not surprised when three teeth failed to report to his tongue. They lay like tokens of the horror to follow, gleaming white enamel in the surrounding dark.

  It’s not a tree.It had bark-like skin and was solid enough to knock him over, but it was no tree. It was the epicentre of his fear. He slashed wildly with his knife, surprised when it plunged deep into soft flesh and a woman gasped. He looked more closely. Katherine?

  Dan woke with a racing pulse to find himself soaked in sweat.

  He’d entwined his fingers around his sheets and drawn blood by biting the inside of his cheek. He willed himself to relax and, in time, his breathing returned to normal.

  Three AM.Dan moaned, disgusted to realise he’d probably had as much sleep as he could get. The pattern was familiar, the nightmares the same. And he was thoroughly sick of it.

  Instead of lying uncomfortably on his sweaty sheets, he rose and ambled to the kitchen in the dark. He had no need of light to find his way, not with such an accurate mental map of his underground abod
e. No sounds came from the study; Samantha had finally coaxed Cookie to bed. Good,Dan approved. They need the rest.

  A glass of water numbed his lips and caused his teeth to ache, but it quickly eased his sweat-induced dehydration. So now what should I do?His question had nothing to do with the remainder of the night. He was pondering long-term options and wondering where his twisted life would turn next.

  He had his evidence. Why am I not in America now? Handing it over and demanding retribution? It didn’t make sense. But very little made sense at three in the morning. Dan gingerly ran a pair of fingers across his bruised back, then twisted left and right until his spine cracked in protest. It still hurt on the apex of random breaths. The injury made him think about the Raven, and where he might be. A splatter of doubt was raining in his mind. Would he do it? Would he kill the CEO?It depended on how insane he really was. Nah,the sensible part of Dan’s mind reasoned. Nobody’s that crazy.

  He looked long and hard at the bottle of sleeping pills he’d stashed in the kitchen, wondering whether they were worth taking. Last time they’d knocked him unconscious for 20 hours and left him with a splitting headache. The pimply doctor at one of Xantex’s prescription houses had assessed Dan’s insomnia as chronic and severe, denoted him as a potential candidate for their new sleeplessness cure. When the memory flooded back, Dan wondered why he’d never flushed the pills into the sewer. The experience had numbed his nervous system and his 20 hours of dreamless sleep – unconsciousness – hadn’t left him feeling refreshed. If anything, it had agitated him further. Xantex had a solution for that too, a never-ending cycle of drugs to combat side effect after side effect. No thanks.

  He spent the remainder of the night gazing at his favourite photograph. It was faded at the edges from excessive handling and a crease ran down the middle, but Katherine was as beautiful as ever in Dan’s eyes.

  I’m sorry.

  *

  Saturday, September 18, 2066

  04:25 Tweed Heads, Australia

  It was colder than two nights ago.

  The Raven attacked a crack that had developed in his index finger’s nail. Where did you go?The trail was cold and that made them difficult to track, especially since Sutherland knew all the tricks to avoid detection. The Raven had scanned nearby portals for suspicious activity. Nothing.He’d accessed the public transport department’s database for clues. Nothing.A lock of black hair wisped in front of his eyes, carried by a sea breeze.

  The crack widened and split his flesh, tearing a seam wide enough for a trickle of blood to ooze free and run onto his palm. He looked at the single drop diffusing across his skin. The sting was easy to block, he’d long since learned how to filter pain through his processor. While he still registered it,pain never controlled him.

  Frustrated, he kicked a rock with his black boot and sent it scuttling across the bitumen. Where the fuck are you?He was tired again– more tired than a quick nap could fix. A bitter laugh escaped his thin lips, carrying the irritation of a dangerous man. Just wait until I find you, Dan Sutherland.He stretched to his full height and spat at the moon before heading toward the nearest portal. You won’t have need of a microchip when I’m finished with you. And as for you, Miss Cameron… the chipping squads won’t find enough of your body to work with.

  Chapter 6

  If you take the sacred things

  The things that we hold dear

  Empty promise is all you’ll find

  So give me something

  Something to believe in

  The Offspring – Something to believe in

  Saturday, September 18, 2066

  08:23 Andamooka, South Australia

  “Good morning.”

  Dan grunted. “Is it?” Then he mentally slapped himself. He didn’t need to inflict his tainted mood on the others. Snap out of it Danny-boy, she doesn’t deserve that.“Sorry,” he apologised. “I had a rough night.”

  Jen raised a regal eyebrow. “That’s okay.” She was wearing a white robe that she’d found in Dan’s cupboard. “I’m sorry you had a bad night.”

  Dan absently gestured, attempting to look relaxed but coming across distracted and disinterested. “It’s funny how you take sleep for granted until you can’t have it anymore.”

  Samantha and Cookie were yet to rise. They were languishing in the comfort of Dan’s vibrating guest bed. Jen could hear her friend giggling and wondered when she’d get out of bed and brave the world. She was uncomfortable being alone with their host. Dan was radiating… something. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly what.

  “You want to talk about it?” She knew she had to offer. How could she not? Something was obviously tormenting him.

  Dan shook his head, unable to meet her gaze. “Thank you, but I’d rather not.” He pushed away from the bench. “How about some breakfast?”

  “I’d love some,” she welcomed the change in topic. “What’re you offering?”

  “Muesli, eggs and toast. Take your pick.”

  Jen sat on a breakfast stool and tightened the cord around her waist, making sure the robe adequately covered her chest. “I’ve never been fond of hot food for breakfast. Muesli sounds good though.”

  Dan laid two bowls on the bench and fished clean spoons from the dishwasher and muesli from a jar in the pantry. He filled both bowls and drowned the muesli in soymilk. “It’s all I have.”

  “Good, because that’s all I drink.”

  “Ah,” he said, placing a friendly hand on her shoulder. “A fellow dairy deserter.”

  “My mother wouldn’t keep cow’s milk in the house, so I got used to soy when I was a girl,” Jen explained. “I remember the last time I had cow’s milk.” She shuddered through a sour expression. “But I shouldn’t talk about that over breakfast.”

  Dan smiled but it looked strained, as though he was putting on a brave show to shield her from… What?From something lingering beneath the surface. “Where did you grow up?”

  “Coffs Harbour,” Jen replied. “Not the most savoury place, I know. Hell, it’s not a good place to visit let alone spend a childhood. But that’s where my parents settled, so that’s where I was stuck.”

  “Never been there myself,” Dan said, having no idea of the horrors she was repressing. It had once been a quaint seaside town with a gorgeous harbour and a wildlife sanctuary on Mutton-bird Island,a short stroll across the breakwater. But it had changed, morphing into something insidious when the population exploded faster than the local economy could sustain. The influxstarted before portal technology made the coast accessible to everyone, back in the early twenty-first century when adjammers were still campaigning against the negative onslaught of globalisation. By the time PortaNet had flooded the market with portals it was too late.Decent citizens shunned the place and headed elsewhere for their slice of paradise. Coffs Harbour turned into a haven for the poor and repressed, where jobs were scarce and industry dumped noxious chemicals on the nearby banana plantations. People were ignoring the warnings as lateas the 1990s, at which time the local council still used dangerous pesticides and herbicides to keep pest populations under control. Nobody was willing to heed the statistics when people started becoming sick. It wasn’t long before Coffs Harbour had thoroughly earned its reputation for the highest incidence of cancer in the southern hemisphere. The council had finally cleaned up its act but local industry continued to use carcinogenic chemicals and the sickness spread, passing from one generation to the next. Hideous deformities were at a record high and birth defects were the norm. It saddened Jen to think her grandfather had picked Coffs Harbour as the place to settle in such a broad continent. And why move at all?She still didn’t have a plausible answer. What was wrong with America?The chemicals had left their mark on Jen too – a rare blood disorder that threatened her life whenever her stress hormonesrose too high. Several of her friends had died from the disease during puberty,and she’d lost another two to incurable forms of cancer. Poor health was just one of the underlying problems for t
he region, economic gloom and a host of social issuesran rife. Jen was glad to be free of the nightmare. True, Coffs Harbour was a lot cleaner these days, but she still wished her father had possessed the wisdom to abandon ship like the rest of the sensible population.

  “Well you’re better off that way, trust me,” Jen said around a mouthful of toasted muesli.

  “What about your parents?” Dan probed.

  “What about them?” Her spine stiffened defensively.

  “Well…” Dan prompted. “You met mine. What about yours?”

  She flinched behind a smile. “What do you want to know? My father still lives in Coffs Harbour and works for Hydro-Tech, of all companies. He’s part of their Australasian management team, in charge of water quality if I’m not mistaken.”

  “Not bad.”

  “Oh really?” Jen retorted. “Except his corporation has the gall to hold our lives for ransom. They charge whatever they want for their products and we have no choice but to pay. Did you know they mark up by three thousandpercent?” She didn’t wait for a reply, but took delight in Dan’s surprise. “Poor people can’t afford drinking water so they filter tap water until their bodies are so clogged with that pink chemical shit they just roll over and die. And do you think Hydro-Tech gives a damn? Hell no, they hike up the price and poison the next rank of the economically disadvantaged.” A furious gleam twinkled in her eyes, declaring her vehement opposition to her father’s work. “Now my mother…” She sighed, letting go of her anger. “She lives in America. I don’t visit her as often as I should.”