Chao looked down, smiling. ‘As my Master wishes.’
They waited, watching as the signs grew hopeful, as the wind died and the colours slowly changed to brighter hues.
‘There,’ the small man said, pointing towards the figures on the screen. ‘Have your man focus on that one. The one in green, on the right there. I want to see his face as it all changes back. I want…’
The image changed. The man’s face – his mask – became larger, clearer.
‘Good. Good… now let’s end it. Let’s kick the fucking legs from under it, eh, Chao?’
Chao chuckled. ‘As my Master wishes… but what would you have me sell?’
The small man was smiling now. A broad, triumphant smile. ‘Sell glass, Chao. Sell every last share we have in glass!’
‘Glass?’ Jake stood there, stunned by what Joel was saying. ‘They’re selling glass?’
‘Yes,’ Joel answered. ‘Like there’s no tomorrow…’
Unfortunate words, Jake thought, because now he knew. The Chinese. The fucking Chinese were selling every share they had in glass. And why would they do that? Why in god’s name disinvest in something they needed so much of?
‘Oh fuck… Oh Jesus fucking Christ!’
Joel, it seems, was still listening in. ‘Jake? What’s up?’
The Chinese are selling glass, that’s what up. And if they’re selling glass now, then all the rest…
‘It’s the Chinese, Joel. It’s the fucking Chinese!’
Joel laughed. He actually laughed. ‘It can’t be.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because they’re suffering more than anyone.’
‘So?’
The wind had died. There was a sudden freshness to the air. For a moment or two it had almost seemed that it was over. And then the Chinese had begun to sell glass.
Jake turned, aware suddenly that someone was behind him.
‘God…’
It was Jory. Jory from Ubik. At least, an avatar that looked like Jory, complete with shovel teeth.
‘Who are you? Who the fuck…’
His avatar seized, became catatonic for a moment, locked. All but his eyes, which were somehow permitted movement.
It’s him, Jake thought. The one who made all of these things happen.
It made no move to come and get him. To try to eat him, as it tried to eat Joe Chip. No, it just stood there as all about it the datscape slowly died.
He wanted to understand. He wanted to ask it why it had done this. But he couldn’t use his mouth. Only his eyes. As if some highly specific programme were controlling him now.
He was expecting it to speak. To tell him why he had been chosen at the last. But it said nothing, merely looked at him, disdainful in its triumph.
The backdrop flickered, speeded up, then slowed. A voice sounded in a long-drawn-out drawl. It was Joel, speaking in his head.
‘Who-oo-oo’s sqeeeee-ziiing iiit?’
The bandwidth. Joel meant the bandwidth. Someone was ‘squeezing’ it.
Things grew pale, faint, instabilities began to appear in the surface of things – tiny black holes forming where things were missing suddenly, like gaps in reality. Only none of this was real. None of it.
He tried to cut out of there, but, paralysed as he was, he couldn’t.
Trapped. I’m fucking trapped.
‘Not trapped,’ a voice answered him, as if it read his mind. ‘Beaten, yes, but not trapped.’
Was that him? Was that Jory? Only his mouth hadn’t moved. He hadn’t spoken. But someone had. Someone had finally got inside him.
And as he thought it, he could feel the touch of the finest silken threads on his face, the faintest trace of sulphur and cinnamon on his tongue. And, pervading all, like a coil of swirling, dark red smoke, the outlines of a face. Oriental. Brutal.
Jake woke, covered in sweat. Joel was leaning over him.
He looked about him, panicked. ‘What happened? What the fuck…?’
‘They froze it. Closed the datscape down.’
‘Closed it…?’ He nodded. Of course. That’s what they had decided. ‘So things are… all right?’
‘They’re hardly that. But they’ve declared a three-day holiday. To try and sort things out.’
‘And China?’
In answer, Joel pointed to a screen above Jake’s bed. ‘Look for yourself. China’s burning. They’re no threat to anyone.’
On the screen, the Forbidden Palace was in flames. The great square in front of it was filled with angry people, shouting and fighting. As the image jumped from city to city it was more of the same. People fought and buildings burned.
‘I don’t understand…’
‘It’s madness now, but things’ll calm down. People were afraid, that’s all.’
Jake stared at him a moment, then let his head fall back onto the pillow, closing his eyes.
Something had happened. Something bad. Only they were all in denial about it. They thought they could close it all down for a couple of days and everything would be fine. Only it wasn’t. Nor would it be. Not if China had its way.
He kept seeing that face, forming in the smoke, and knew now where he’d seen it before. It was on a TV bulletin, about a year ago. He couldn’t remember the man’s name, but he would. In time.
He turned his head, opening his eyes to look at Joel again.
‘So what’s the plan?’
Joel smiled. ‘You go home. Sit tight for a day or two. Then come back here and start it all up again.’
‘And meanwhile?’
‘We’re going to analyse what happened. Run it all back and see what we can see. We’ve got a good idea, thanks to you, Jake. We know what we’re looking for. And we’ll find it, I guarantee.’
‘Yeah?’ Only he wasn’t sure they would, for once. The one he’d faced – the one behind the Jory avatar – must have known they’d close things down as soon as they got bad. He’d anticipated all the rest, why not anticipate that?
No. Whoever he was, he was good. Possibly the best. Those programmes he’d written. It was like he understood things in a different way.
But why bring it all down? Why that?
Joel ordered him a hopper. It was after five and, standing there in the dark, he wondered what their next move was. Because this hadn’t finished yet. What the Chinese had begun, they’d finish, because that was their way.
As the hopper touched down on the pad, he ran across, bent low.
‘Mister Reed…’
He clambered inside, grateful for once to be heading home. ‘Hi, Sam. How are things in the real world?’
‘Not good, Mister Reed. Been a bad night…’
‘Yeah?’
Jake was surprised. Sam was normally so cheerful, so positive. Yet as they climbed above the tops of the high buildings, he could see back down the river. P’ei Ching wasn’t the only place that was burning. All down the river, on both sides, there were patches of golden flames among the blackness.
‘God… what’s been happening?’
‘News gets out,’ Sam said. ‘Word is the Market had to close.’
Jake nodded. ‘That’s so.’
‘Then things must be bad, yeah?’
‘I guess.’
There was a brief silence between them, then Sam spoke again. ‘Mister Reed?’
‘Hey… call me Jake.’
He saw in the mirror how Sam smiled at that.
‘I’d love to, Mister Reed. You’re a nice man. But it’d get me the sack. No… what I wanted to say was this. Hard times are coming. Maybe the hardest we’ve seen for years.’
He wanted to say no. To reassure him the way he knew he was going to have to reassure Kate. Only he couldn’t. Sam deserved better than that.
‘Yes,’ he said finally. ‘I think that’s so. I think…’
He saw it coming up at them. Sensed its brightness long before he felt it strike the craft.
‘Jesus Christ!’
The world exploded in
the air about him. Bits flew past the seat where he was cocooned in the back.
The hopper shifted to the right, then began to fall.
‘Hold on!’ Sam yelled above the sudden noise of wind.
The engine juddered, died.
‘Oh fuck…’
Jake closed his eyes. It was like one of those funfair rides. All of his weight was suddenly transferred. Everything was suddenly so much heavier. Only this was no ride. He wasn’t in the datscape now. This was real. And there was nothing between him and the earth. Nothing but the river.
He fell, faster and faster, strapped into his seat, the craft beginning to swing round and round in the air, pirouetting madly.
And then it hit.
Chapter 6
FRAGMENTS
Jake came to, lulled by the gentle rocking motion of the craft. It was dark and damp and his ribs ached. There was the faintest gurgling sound, a soft electronic crackle and the steady hiss of spraying water.
From the blackness in front came a groan.
‘Sam…?’
There was no answer.
Jake fumbled for the catch to release him from the restraining harness. As he did he noticed the wetness surrounding him.
‘Fuck…’
The seal for the inner compartment had been breached. Maybe some piece of shrapnel from the explosion had got between the two surfaces, preventing them from closing properly. He didn’t know.
The water wasn’t deep. Four or five inches at most. But if they couldn’t get out then they were in serious trouble.
‘Sam? You okay?’
Another groan.
Maybe someone was coming. Maybe someone had seen the missile hit and had sent for help. Or maybe Sam had sent out an emergency signal. Only he couldn’t count on that. What if no one knew they were down?
He had to open the seal and take his chances. Swim for shore and hope it wasn’t far. That or wait for the water to fill the capsule.
He sat forward, then winced with the pain. The strap must have cut into him. It felt like someone had taken a blunt knife and run it down the length of his chest from left shoulder to right hip.
Forcing himself to ignore it, he hauled himself up out of the seat and through the gap. There was a lot more light here in the front. He could make out Sam’s figure, slumped over the controls. Leaning across, Jake put his hand on the side of his neck. It was warm. And there was a pulse.
‘Sam… we’ve got to get out of here… the capsule’s filling up…’
Sam groaned.
The control board in front of Sam was faintly lit. There were thirty, maybe forty switches, none of them clearly marked. Which of them activated the seal?
Did he just keep flicking them until he got lucky?
‘Sam… we’ve got to get out of here…’
Sam stirred, his head lifted. ‘Wha’ the…?’
Jake reached up, touching Sam’s face, tracing his nose and forehead with his fingers. They were sticky with blood.
‘The seal, Sam… which switch opens the seal?’
Sam groaned again.
That was another thing. If he breached the seal, he was going to have to grab hold of Sam and somehow get him ashore, too, because Sam wasn’t going to make it on his own.
At least I know how, he thought, his eyes moving from one switch to another, hoping he might recognize something.
He smiled wryly. So all of those old swimming safety lessons were about to pay off. Who’d a thunk it?
It made him think of Alison, and in turn of Kate. He had to get out. For her sake as much as for his own.
‘Sam… I’m going to press a few of these switches until I find the right one, then I’m going to get you out of here and back onto dry land. You got that?’
Sam’s groan seemed almost articulate this time. He gave the vaguest nod.
‘Okay. Good. But you couldn’t help me here, could you, buddy? Just press the right switch for me, eh?’
Sam moved his head, almost as if he were focusing, then his hand went out, his fingers covering a switch.
Nothing happened, but now Jake knew which switch he had to throw.
‘Okay,’ he said, talking to himself now. ‘Count to three and we’re out of here. One, two…’
The solid thunk as the seal came open and the sudden inrush of cold, stale-smelling water took Jake by surprise. For a moment he lost direction. In the sudden swirl he couldn’t make out which was up and which down. And Sam… he had no idea where Sam was.
As the capsule opened like a massive flower blooming, it began to sink. As it sank it dragged him under.
Jake kicked hard, struggling to make his way back to the surface. The pain in his chest and ribs was ferocious, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was to survive. He pumped his legs and arms, striving to break free of the water’s grip, then broke surface, gasping.
It hurt. He could hardly breathe it hurt so much.
For a moment he closed his eyes, treading water. He felt like he was going to black out, only he knew he mustn’t. If he lost consciousness now he was dead. Dead and no way back.
He counted ten then opened them again, looking about him.
Moonlight silvered the swollen surface of the river. There was no sign of the craft, no sign of Sam.
Jake slowly turned himself in the water, trying to work out where he was.
The hopper’s capsule must have drifted upstream quite some way. The City was way off in the distance, its bright-lit towers unmistakable.
Just then something bobbed up onto the surface, some twenty yards away.
‘Sam! Wait, buddy… I’m coming…’
Jake kicked out hard, swimming towards him, praying he hadn’t already drowned.
Jake left Sam on the tiny stretch of beach and went for help. He had tried to make contact but the implant beneath his ear had been damaged. When he touched it it was moist and painful and the best he got from it was a faint hiss.
He didn’t know where he was – Fulham, maybe – nor how he was going to make contact, but there had to be a way. Hinton would come for them. They had to. They wouldn’t let him down. He was worth too much to them.
There was a set of worn stone steps leading up onto the embankment. It wasn’t a cold night; even so he was soaked through and as he stood there, trying to make things out, he found he was shivering.
Cold or shock? He didn’t know. Maybe it didn’t matter. All he knew was that he had to survive long enough for them to get a fix on him.
It was dark where he’d come out, like it was a park of some kind. An unlit, uninhabited space. Further back, however, beyond the immediate blackness, he could see the fires blazing, sending their lambent glow up into the night; could hear the Security sirens wailing, the baying of looters and rioters.
Jake turned, looking back across the river.
It was just as bad over there. He could make out more than a dozen different fires, could hear the sirens, the distant roar of the mob.
Jake shivered. It was a bad night to be lost.
The trouble was, he didn’t know how things worked out here, outside the enclaves. Was there a communications network? Was there some way he could get Hinton on the line to come and rescue them? Or was he going to have to drag Sam with him to a gate and get them to let him in?
That last seemed likely. This didn’t look like a place that had a sophisticated, hi-tech communications web. This had the look of somewhere that had been left to rot.
For a full two minutes he stood there, unable to decide. The truth was, he didn’t know what to do. For the first time in his life he had no answers. All he knew was that he couldn’t leave Sam, even if it made things difficult.
Okay… Think… How can you make this easier?
Some kind of cart, that would be a start. Or a litter. Something he could put Sam in, so that he didn’t have to carry him. Only where the fuck was he going to find something like that?
He didn’t know. All he knew was that he felt like
a castaway on an island full of savages. And with that thought came another, darker, bleaker than the first.
He was going to die here. Ignominiously. Unheroically. Victim of some savage little know-nothing.
It made him feel sick. Made him feel like his whole life had been wasted.
‘Jake… Jake…’
Jake went to the rail and looked down. It was Sam, calling him. He couldn’t make him out very well, but he knew it was him.
‘Wait there,’ he shouted back as he ran down. ‘I’m coming.’
Sam was sitting up, holding his shoulder. Jake knelt.
‘You okay?’
Sam nodded. ‘Thanks… you know…’
Jake waved it aside. ‘D’you think you can walk? I mean, you can lean on me…’
He helped him up. Sam swayed a moment, as if he were going to fall down again, then steadied himself.
‘I’m fine, I…’
‘We’ll find a gate,’ Jake said. ‘We’ll work our way east and…’
The thought struck him. Sam would have an implant. Even if his was damaged, Sam’s would still work.
‘Sam… your implant… can you…?’
Sam shook his head. ‘Nothing but a hiss. Like everything’s dead.’
That made Jake think. What if the communications system was down? What if the Chinese had hit that too? Because he knew now it was the Chinese. They were behind all of this. It was probably one of their agents who had shot him out of the sky.
Which meant he had been specifically targeted. They had somehow known when he’d come out of there – known what craft he was on and had a man there waiting to pull the trigger and send the missile flying up out of the darkness at him.
It was a souring thought. It made him think of the steward at Bellini’s. The guy he’d thought had been watching him. Well, maybe they had been watching him all along; knowing he was Hinton’s star turn; knowing that if they got to him they weakened Hinton and, through Hinton, the West.
Because if what had happened was what he thought had happened, China had just declared war on the rest of the world. Not overtly, but covertly, by dismantling its systems, by destroying its electronic infrastructure.
Or was that going too far?
Getting Sam up the steps took a long, exhausting time. Sam was hurt. Badly hurt. At the top they had to rest, to let him get his strength back. It didn’t augur well. The fastest Sam could do was a kind of geriatric limp.
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