NO SIGNAL

by Jem Tugwell

  The only problem with his plan was that he had guessed he would be travelling south and not north. To get to his meeting point in Gretna Green, he was going to head away from the finish and not towards it. Too late now, but his old friend, Davide had lived in England for years. He’d see him right.

  Sully had memorised his route to Gretna. An overnight walk along the A75. Eight or so hours walking. He had nearly ten hours until his meeting with Davide. Not fun, but do-able, and he should even have some time for a nap.

  He could have told Davide to come to Dumfries, but he had dismissed the idea as too risky. Too obvious to the police if Davide drove into Dumfries. Staying the night in Gretna Green was simpler. Still a risk, but Sully would have won before anyone reacted.

  ***

  Sully shivered with cold. At 1am it had rained heavily, with the wind driving the drops around and down his neck. The rain jacket had done its best, but it was out gunned by the Scottish storm. His trousers clung to his legs and his shoes squelched.

  He reached the sign to the entrance to Gretna Green at 3:30am in the morning. It had taken longer than he thought because of all the evening cars on the road. Each time he had seen lights he had jumped into the verge and hidden. He didn’t want to risk being seen and people asking questions.

  The town seemed quiet, no one about this early. Sully walked along the roads, his dark clothes helping him blend in. At least the clouds hid any glare of the moon.

  He only saw the white cross on the junction when he was a few metres away. The Old Parish Church should be up on the right. From his internet searches, the images of the church showed grounds and bushes that he could hide in until he met Davide at 7:15am. He could sleep for a couple of hours.

  He reached the church and went past the few mildewed gravestones at the front, through the gate, past the door and into the large graveyard behind the church, where he found shelter under a dark bush.

  Sully’s clothes were damper than the ground, but he curled up and got himself as comfortable as he could before drifting off to sleep.

  ***

  The plan was that Davide’s car would roll down the drive of Gretna Hall Hotel at 7:15. Davide would then turn right onto Gretna Loading, then left onto Glasgow Road by the white cross and pull in to park at the back of the Old Parish Church.

  Sully checked the status of the game controller: ‘Game runtime 15hrs 15’.

  7:15am.

  A few seconds later he heard the crunch of a car door as it closed. Davide, he thought, but stayed in his hiding place in case it was a local or someone who worked for the church.

  A tall, elegant man came around the corner and wandered amongst the graves, scanning the trees and bushes. Davide was meant to be looking at the graves not at the hedges, Sully thought, but he couldn’t complain. Davide, smart blue suit and shiny shoes as always, was here and he was on time.

  Sully shuffled out from under the bush and walked towards Davide. He stopped in front of his friend.

  ‘I’d give you a hug, but I’d spoil your suit,’ Sully said.

  Davide looked at him. ‘What the fuck, Sully. What crazy shit have you got yourself into?’ He whistled through his teeth. ‘How did you get the iTourist off? It’s meant to be impossible unless Border Control do it for you.’

  Sully pulled his left ‘hand’ out of his pocket and pulled his sleeve up.

  Davide clasped his hand to his mouth. ‘Holy fuck, man.’

  Sully smiled. ‘I’ll tell you all about it in the car. I’ll wait by the church.’

  The plan was that Davide was meant to be looking around the old church and churchyard for a research project and then travelling on. He was a naturalised UK citizen and so his signal was permanent. If it got replayed, his signal needed to stay more than a few seconds for the story to work.

  Sully spent the ten minutes with his back pressed against the church wall, praying that no one else came.

  Finally, Davide came back and walked towards his car. Sully fell in behind him, like a scruffy shadow of the elegant Davide.

  The car door opened as Davide approached. ‘You get in first. Lie across the seat so no one can see you,’ he said.

  ‘Will the car know?’ Sully worried.

  ‘Not without a signal.’

  Sully climbed in, grateful that the car was hidden from the road, and Davide got in after him. The car door shut, and the heater came on. The warm air was a welcome relief. His right hand had a bluey tinge and was awkward and stiff from the cold. His left hand was fine. An unexpected benefit of an augmentation upgrade.

  Davide looked at Sully’s left hand. ‘You need to explain that.’

  Sully shrugged and talked about the game and needing to be off-grid. Davide went as pale as his white shirt when Sully said, ‘Only way to get the iTourist off is to take your hand off above the wrist.’

  ‘You… you did that?’

  ‘Sure, easy. One clean strike. No problem for me. I’m here to win.’

  Davide shook his head in shock. ‘No way I could compete with you, man. Able to do that so easily… wow. Respect.’

  Sully smiled, basking in the awe.

  Davide said nothing for a few seconds, looking like he didn’t believe the whole story was happening. ‘Can I touch it?’

  Sully nodded and Davide put a tentative finger on the game controller ‘hand’.

  Davide cringed and straightened then said, ‘So, where are you heading?’

  Sully showed Davide the map on his game controller display.

  Davide sat and thought for a moment. ‘You want to get there without being tracked?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then it’s better that I take you only part of the journey. I’ve got a friend who can take you the rest of the way. That way if they find me, my signal won’t go anywhere near where you’re heading.’

  Sully nodded, seeing the logic in the idea.

  Davide opened a message window on the car’s display screen and typed ‘You still work in the same place?’, selected a contact and pressed send. Sully watched the screen.

  ‘Yes, why?’ came the reply.

  ‘Favour to ask. Can you meet at the Row at 08:45?’ Davide typed.

  ‘See you then.’

  Davide programmed a destination into the car then sat back as the car headed off. They spent the next hour catching up on life. It was fun, but Sully had an uneasy itch he couldn’t place. From his prone position, all he could see were grey clouds rolling by. ‘Are we being followed?’ he asked.

  Davide spun his head. They were the third car in a ‘train’ of about twenty, all bunched up close so that the aerodynamic effect of the first car created a slipstream for the others and meant that the others used less battery power. Every so often, the lead car would pull out and drop to the back and let the next car take the strain.

  ‘There are lots of cars, but they all look the same.’ Davide shrugged.

  Sully’s unease nagged at him.

  When he saw the first signs for Glasgow centre, Davide said, ‘Nearly there.’

  ***

  Sully followed Davide across Rottonrow Gardens.

  Davide stopped and hugged a woman in her thirties. She wore dreadlocks and a very formal grey suit and smart black shoes. The conflicting styles in her appearance made Sully wonder about her work. While she and Davide whispered, the woman stared at Sully the whole time, shaking her head and scowling.

  She shrugged when Davide stopped talking. ‘Only ’cos it’s you,’ she said.

  Davide hugged her. ‘Sully, this is Ruth. She’ll take you most of the way.’

  Ruth ignored Sully’s offered handshake and turned to walk away. Davide hugged him and said, ‘Good luck.’

  ‘Thanks, man,’ Sully said, and hurried off after Ruth.

  He caught up with her when she reached her car and stood with the door open. Sully climbed in and Ruth jumped in after him. ‘Car… Destination… Office,’ she said.

  ‘Destination… Office,’ the car confirmed
and pulled off.

  Ruth looked at Sully. ‘Whatever this is, I don’t want to know. Stay low and don’t talk. I’ve got work I need to do.’

  Sully lay across the two seats, trying to make himself as small as possible.

  Ruth started waving her hands in the air the way Sully had seen people do everywhere in this place.

  While she was frowning at something and typing, her fingers flying, Sully slipped his game controller hand out from his pocket. He clicked the little finger and glanced at the palm display.

  ‘Yes,’ he whispered with a smile.

  The message ‘Game position – first’ showed on his display.

  Chapter 38

  While Sully was starting his walk to Gretna, Clive and Ava were back in the car leaving Southampton. Clive checked his messages, but he had nothing from Sophia. He felt a queasy shift in the pit of his stomach. Shit, I’ve cocked it up again, he thought.

  The car’s display screen was split into four once more, but this time it was mirroring Clive’s HUD. He was looking at four UK Border Control profiles. One for Lilou, Femi, Tatsuko and Sully.

  ‘We’ve got four apparent strangers,’ he said, looking at the profile photos. ‘One French, one South African, one American and one Italian. But they all chopped their hands off within minutes of each other. They have to be connected.’

  ‘Clearly,’ Ava agreed.

  ‘OK. We’ll take two each and research as much as we can about them. I’ll take Tatsuko and Femi. You take the others.’

  ‘Sure, Boss,’ Ava said, and started to swipe and tap her fingers on her HUD.

  Clive clicked on Femi’s picture and the screen redrew to show his bio, the report from the forensic drone and the UK Border report.

  Clive decided to start with the forensic report. He played the video from Derry and saw a similar scene to the one they had left in Southampton.

  The same type of disused premises, bench and blood splatter. Femi’s bench didn’t have the machete stuck in it. Instead, Clive could see a fresh, deep cut in the wood with blood on one side. Femi must have been able to lever the machete out.

  Clive swiped his HUD to check the report from the Uniform who had searched after the drone’s forensic sweep.

  He read the terse report. It didn’t add anything much to the forensic report other than to say that there was nothing in any of the closed cupboards. No sign of a machete.

  Femi must have taken it. That made him armed and dangerous. So where was he and where was he heading?

  The not knowing was frustrating.

  Clive swiped back to the forensic report and looked again at the photos of the blood splatter on the bench.

  Femi was obviously a very confident and capable man. He’d chopped his hand off in a country he had never been to before and he still had found time to leave the police a message.

  Scrawled in block capitals, written in his own blood, Femi’s message challenged Clive.

  ‘CATCH ME… IF YOU CAN!!’

  ***

  Clive and Ava spent some quiet miles in the car, searching and collating information, before Clive said, ‘Let’s look at it another way.’

  Ava dropped her head in a small nod and finished typing something on her HUD before she looked up. ‘How?’ she asked.

  ‘Let’s ignore the ultimate reason for them chopping their hands off for a moment and look at why you’d chop it off above the wrist and not below.’

  ‘They all cut immediately above the iTourist.’

  ‘Exactly, but they can’t do anything without the iTourist. No travel, no food or water. So, they all bought maps and enough food and water for a few days.’

  ‘They’re planning on walking and carrying everything they need,’ Ava added.

  ‘And the real benefit of no iTourist is that we can’t track them.’

  Ava nodded and looked straight at Clive. ‘And you moan about how easy police work is with iMe.’

  Clive looked away sheepishly. He did hate how easy it was.

  He couldn’t say it out loud, but it would really help now.

  ‘They all got maps. Femi’s covers Northern Ireland, so his finish point must be there. Tatsuko had a map of London. The others could be heading to London as well.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Clive stared out of the window, lost in thought. ‘Femi’s “catch me if you can” sounds like it’s a chase or a race,’ he said.

  ‘Sully’s profile claims he’s an AR world champion,’ Ava said. ‘It could be an AR game.’

  ‘What’s AR?’

  ‘Augmented reality. The game’s players’ real-world environment has visual and audio content integrated into it.’

  ‘But a map and food are so low-tech.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Ava said. ‘That bit doesn’t work as AR. Maybe there’s something else?’

  Maybe, but Ava’s idea reminded Clive of something that Zoe had said on his birthday. Something about an augmented reality game.

  He said, ‘Call, Zoe,’ and touched his jaw. The ringtone echoed through the car’s speakers.

  ‘Hi, Boss,’ Zoe said, the noise of a busy office behind her.

  ‘You still at work?’

  ‘Yep, always hectic.’

  ‘Did you hear about the four tourists going off-grid?’ Clive asked.

  ‘Of course. We ran a quick check when the alerts went off, but the four don’t have any terrorist or cyber-crime links. We lost interest at that point. Why don’t they have a signal? Technical issue?’

  ‘You haven’t seen the reports?’

  ‘No, like I said they’re of no interest to us, and we’re snowed under.’

  ‘They all chopped their hands off above the iTourist.’

  Zoe went quiet, but Clive thought he heard her gasp.

  ‘Still not anything for us to worry about,’ she said. ‘Four one-handed tourists aren’t much of a terror or cyber threat.’

  ‘I agree,’ Clive said. ‘But you mentioned an augmented reality game. Lots of chatter and excitement online.’

  ‘You think it’s related?’

  ‘Maybe, can you take a look for us?’ Clive asked.

  ‘No chance. Way too busy.’

  ‘Can you send us what you have at least?’

  ‘Don’t know, I’ll have to check. I’ll send it if I can.’

  Zoe dropped the call. Clive looked at Ava, who shrugged and said, ‘Maybe.’

  They went back to their respective silent research into the four tourists. No closer to anything concrete.

  Ten minutes later, the PCU work queue filled up with message after message.

  All from Zoe.

  All about an augmented reality game called Forbidden Island.

  Chapter 39

  Clive and Ava divided the avalanche of data and messages that Zoe had sent them and set to trawling through it. Darkness crept up on them and by the time the car was driving through Windsor Great Park and past the site of the old Lego Land complex, the only illumination on the case came from the car’s interior lighting.

  Clive dropped his hands from in front of his face and rolled his shoulders, trying to relieve the ache. He was rewarded with a loud crunch from each side.

  ‘Boss. Do you have to?’ Ava said, her nose wrinkling and top lip curling.

  ‘It helps,’ he said, and he gave them one last rotation and crunch. He tipped his head to the left to get a stretch into his neck and down his shoulder blade.

  ‘The face you’re pulling now is no better.’ Maybe it was tiredness, but Ava was using the same tone with Clive she had used with Brett.

  He let it slide. He was tired too, and reading all the messages Zoe had sent wasn’t helping the case or his own mood.

  ‘There are so many pointless messages. They’re like static trying to masquerade as communication,’ Clive said. ‘Thank you, DataMiner5 for sharing your thoughts “Forbidden Island – Psyched to the bollocks. It’s sick. Can’t wait”. I mean, why bother saying anything so pointless and empty?’

  Clive shut his
eyes and soothed his temples with his fingers.

  Ava grinned.

  Clive wasn’t sure if she was grinning at the stupidity of DataMiner5, or him moaning. ‘You got anything, Ava?’

  ‘A lot of the same, but did you see the subscription fees to follow the game? That’s a massive amount of money.’

  ‘I saw. Someone’s getting very rich.’

  Ava’s grin widened, and her hands flew as she typed and swiped on her HUD. ‘Thought so,’ she said and threw her HUD at the car’s screen.

  The screen showed a profile picture of Lilou on one side and a message from someone called Serge.

  ‘We have our final four. Our champions. The brave explorers of the Forbidden Island – You can follow Parkour179, TheChampion1, Braai_Bru, and ReflectiveAndRightous. Click the link to subscribe.’

  ‘What?’ Clive asked, but seeing the name Braai_Bru he thought he could guess.

  Ava’s grin was still in place. ‘Lilou was an Olympic champion in triathlon, so she could be TheChampion1, but she’s now really big into parkour. I think she’s Parkour179. Look…’

  She clicked on Lilou’s photograph on the car’s screen and it redrew to show pages of text and details on Lilou and her life. At the bottom was a section titled ‘Images’ showing several thumbnails. Ava clicked on a thumbnail and it redrew to show at full size. Lilou was standing on the top step of a podium, beaming and waving to the crowd. She wore a blue vest with a French flag on the left, above her heart. A gold medal hung around her neck, but Clive was staring below the medal. The blue of the vest was interrupted with a white square. On the top of the square were the five interlinked Olympic rings. Most of the rest of the square had blue numbers. Her competitor’s number. Number 179.

  ‘That’s got to be her,’ Clive said. ‘And Braai_Bru could be Femi. He’s South African and they call each other bru, like we use mate. A lot of the photos that Femi posts show him cooking on a BBQ that he calls a braai.’

  ‘That would mean Sully and Tatsuko could use either of the names: TheChampion1 and ReflectiveAndRightous.’