by Simon Royle
The light went off inside. I put on the gas mask and waited.
My thighs burned with the energy of being in a crouch and when I could stand it no more I went over the railing and laid flat on the floor of the balcony. The sound around me stayed the same. Nothing. In the distance I could hear the hum of a Travway. But nothing where I was. I swiveled until my face was mins from the clearfilm sliding doors.
I needed to cut a hole in the door so that I could pump in the gas that would knock Wigley out while I broke in. Maloo had given me a small circular disc, one side covered in tape to stick on to the door, the other a handle to pull out the plug. Far down on the right of the door I placed the disc and pressed hard to stick it to the door. I gave it a tug to make sure it was firmly attached to the clearfilm and then pulled the small cord that would cause the disc to burn through it. The edges of the disc started smoking. Tendrils of the smoke, the fried remains of the clearfilm door, floated up to be caught by the breeze over the balcony. The plug came free in my hand. I put it, and the circle of clearfilm attached to it, into my pocket.
I felt the cool air inside the room hit the end of my fingers in their thin-tipped gloves. I inserted the nozzle of the canister and turned the valve open full. In thirty seconds, six cubic liters of gas vented into Wigley’s room. I took out the magnet and placed it near the handle, holding it lightly against the door. With my thumb I turned it on and felt the pull of the metal bolts. I pulled it downwards and the doors unlocked. Maloo had obviously invaded property before as everything he had told me was working.
I slowly slid the door open. The seal squeaked once as it came free from its partner. I stopped and listened. Nothing. I could hear Wigley breathing. I slid the door open fully and stepped into the room. I could feel carpet under my feet, and I felt down the curtains with my hands until I found the manual button on the wall. The curtains slid open quietly and light from the Moon let me see in the room. I stayed low and went over to the edge of the sleeper. Wigley was on the other side. In a crouch, I crossed his room and checked his door. There was no bolt to lock.
I crouched my way back across the carpet to where Wigley lay sleeping with his head on his arm, curled up in the fetal position. The gas was enough to knock him out for five minutes, long enough for what I had to do.
I took out the injection Maloo had prepared and lifted the cover of the sleeper to one side. I grabbed the little toe of his left foot and carefully inserted the micro needle of the injector. It looked like it was in. I swallowed hard and pressed the button. The injector made a soft hissing noise and ended with a click. I pressed the red button and the micro needle withdrew. I put the injector, disarmed, back into my pocket and took out the mobile biosensor. I placed it against his throat, leaning over him. Wigley was dead.
I steeled myself and reaching over with thumb and forefinger, his eyelids suddenly opened and his eyes stared into mine. Why? I screamed in my mind. Why didn’t the injection work? Safety. The safety-catch on the injector. Maloo had stressed it three times. You have to twist up and around to release the safety catch. I hadn’t done it.
His eyes were just cents from mine and shocked. I dropped on top of him with my upper body, my hands grasping his upper arms and my legs pinning his thighs to the sleeper. His eyes were glazed. I waited. I could hear my heart in my eardrums. His pupils narrowed and he tried to sit up. Then he realized what was happening and pushed.
“Who, why, who are you?” he strangled out as he strained against my hold. I saw in his eyes that he was going to shout out and I dropped on him, forcing my gloved hand over his mouth. He got his left arm free and flailed at my back but it didn’t hurt. His eyes were wide and staring at me behind my gloved fingers.
“Did you do it?” I said in a low hiss in his ear. “Did you?”
He shook his head violently from side to side. His eyes bright, white and wild in the dark.
I looked in his eyes and threw my weight on him again, focusing my mind using what Gabriel had taught me.
“Terror, panic, disbelief, it’s a nightmare, no it’s real.” His feelings came first. No coherent thoughts, just raw fear. I recognized it from the beach when I had lost Mariko. I pushed that thought away and went behind his fear.
I cast the thought. “Open your memories to me.” I felt his mind react to my presence in it. “Do it. Do it now there is nowhere for you to hide. I am in you. It will be all right, just open your mind. Open.”
His mind opened. “My safe, he’s come to rob my safe.” He was thinking of his safe behind the image on the wall behind me. An image of a small sack of diamonds and bars of gold. I pushed further, his eyes widening. Sweat pouring off me, dripping onto his upper lip. I looked down into his eyes. Going deeper.
My mind turned red and black. With an animal snarl, I released his arms and sat up, kneeling on him. My hand went into my coveralls’ inner pocket and found the dagger. The cross bar on the hilt snagged as I started to pull it out. I heard the scream form through the red and black and lifted the dagger high in the air with both hands.
“No, no, please wait, no I –”
Using both hands, thumbs locked over the hilt, I plunged the dagger into his chest using all my strength.
He shook his head from side to side, silently mouthing no. I leaned into the hilt of the dagger with my chest, putting all my weight behind it, and twisted the handle.
“No, no, no.”
The final no came out gurgled and with a last-ditch effort his chest heaved upwards and he coughed blood over my face. The breath wheezed out of him in a groaned sigh. I sat back, my chest heaving as I sucked in air, my temples throbbing. I watched his eyes realize their death. He would never see again what had caused me to want to kill him.
Taking out my Devstick, I thumbed for Sir Thomas and sent the message that I had drafted earlier.
I need to transmit in confidence.
I waited. Looking at the dark grey screen of my Devstick, I could hear my own breathing. I avoided looking at Wigley.
Go ahead.
I sent the next pre-drafted message.
It’s done.
I held the camera of my Devstick pointed at the body of Wigley. His eyes wide open and his tongue hanging out of his mouth. The hilt of the dagger in his chest surrounded by a pool of blood spreading over the thick white cotton of the sleeper. The Devstick shook in my hand, the small digital Wigley in the shaking screen as dead as the real one on the sleeper. I cut the image and sent the next message.
I best hurry home. I expect Mariko will be waiting for me.
Yes. I expect she shall. See you soon.
I took small comfort from Sir Thomas’s reply. Mariko will be waiting for me. She must be OK. She must be. I closed my Devstick. Folded it and put in back in a pocket, noticing that it was smeared in blood from my gloves. I went back to Wigley, grabbed the dagger by the handle and pulled. It didn’t come out. I leaned over him and using both hands heaved up. A sucking noise and the blade came free. The smell hit me then. He had soiled himself.
I replaced the dagger in the coverall pocket and looked around. Have I forgotten anything? No. Calmer now, and feeling detached, I stopped and listened. I couldn’t hear anything, only the slight hum of the air-conditioning unit. I pulled off the bloodied gloves and put them in a side pocket and, taking out a fresh pair, crossed to the image hanging on the wall. The image swung free on a hinge. A small metal box, a keypad and a handle. I entered the code that I had read from his mind and opened the door to his safe.
Chapter 35
Tag You’re It
Jonah and Mariko’s Beach House, Sisik Beach, Malaysian Geographic
Saturday 15 February 2110, 1:04am +8 UTC
I stepped softly into the sand from the door of the Titan. The second floor of the house was lit, the light spilling out onto the beach in front. I stood on the edge of the light, trying to see in. All I could make out was the top half of the inside of the house, but I hadn’t left the lights on. I hoped it was Mariko bu
t what if it was Sir Thomas, or worse, Cochran? I reached into my backpack and pulled out the gun that Maloo had bought in Bangkok. And then I slowly put it back in the backpack.
I stepped into the light and walked to the steps that led up to the deck. I climbed them with a steady tread, my eyes focused on the steps, waiting for the interior of the house to be revealed. And there she was. Mariko. A wave of blissful relief passed over me. Lying on the sleeper, her back to me. And then a wave of pure terror swept down my spine. Opening the sliding doors I crossed to the sleeper and sat down beside her. I held my emotions in check and put my hand against her neck. She was only sleeping.
Something wrenched free inside of me and I nearly lost it, but I held on. I didn’t want those watching to get anything from me. I put the backpack on the floor next to the sleeper and lay down beside her. I reached over to the Devstick and turned off the light.
I shut my eyes. And saw Wigley. I wondered if I would ever sleep again.
***
Gabriel shook his head softly, his fingers stroking the three day stubble on his chin. The Tag was being voted in. He looked at the time in the lower right hand corner of the Devscreen, 5:14am, and voting had started in Auckland at one sec past midnight - six hours ago with the time difference between the two places. Another eighteen hours to go before the poll would be closed. Midnight in Samoa. Already the vote in favor was ahead by more than eight percent.
As Gabriele Esposito, Gabriel voted no and went back to reviewing the code he had been working on for a week. It was perfect. The code that had already been planted in Sir Thomas’s base Dev by his messages would grab the code he was looking at and together form a Dev code virus that would find and scramble the list of serial numbers. At least that was the plan.
He sighed, thinking about what Mark had done, or perhaps more correctly for what he, Gabriel, had done to Mark. Sorry for the lost innocence. Sorry there was no choice. Looking out to sea, he saw that Maloo was back and getting the yacht ready for the trip. At this time of year, with the wind where it was, they could expect to average fifty kilos an hour on the trip back to New Singapore. Covering about seven thousand five hundred kiloms of ocean in about six and a half days.
Gabriel’s strategy was simple. Sail to New Singapore, make sure the Tag serial numbers get scrambled and kill Sir Thomas. The only part of the plan that he thought was at risk was scrambling the Tag serial numbers. He expected to kill Sir Thomas because the plan didn't allow either of them to survive. He wasn’t sure if Marty had worked this out yet, but Maloo had, and was furious with Gabriel for even thinking of it. Gabriel closed the code page and opened a document. His will. He smiled.
***
I woke up. She was staring at me, a small smile on her lips and the palm of her hand on my cheek. She stroked down my face with a single finger until she pressed it against my lips. I blinked my eyes, and her smile twitched up a fraction. I turned around and picking up the Devstick on the table next to the sleeper saw that it was 5:15am. I’d slept for four hours. I immediately flashed back to what I had done yesterday. Could she see it? Could she see that I had murdered a man? Could she see that I had done it for her? I hesitated to turn back to face her but I turned and looked again into her eyes.
I desperately wanted to talk to her, to explain, but I couldn’t. I assumed that we would be under intense scrutiny. That even the slightest whisper would be recorded and analyzed for its meaning. Gazing into her eyes, I had a thought. My thoughts belong to me. I reached out with my mind as gently as possible. “Mariko, Mariko, can you hear me? Please don’t be scared. It is me Mark.”
She smiled again and looked intensely into my eyes, bringing her face closer to mine.
“Mariko can you – ” she blinked and her mind shouted “YES” at me. I blinked and my head jerked back slightly as I was startled. Her answer was so clear and loud in my mind. She licked her upper lip and her forehead creased in a slight frown.
I thought.
“We can’t say anything in this room. I think it will have been bugged by Sir Thomas or Cochran.”
Her thoughts weren’t coherent to me. I was getting mixed-up in images of me and her emotion at seeing me. Her thoughts seemed to be in a constant flow of noise. I focused and reached out with my hand to cup her cheek.
Finally I caught it.
“Yes, I know. What day is it?”
“It’s Saturday the 15th of February. 5:15 in the morning.”
She smiled, her teeth showing white in the dark room. Her thoughts and emotion, hitting me in a blast of happy noise, overwhelmed my untrained mind. I shut my eyes and forced the threads to sort themselves out. “Pregnant. Baby. I am pregnant.” Another wave of happiness and I opened my eyes. I smiled back and sent back the wave of happiness that spread through me. A thought flashed. Killing Wigley was worth it. I quickly pushed it away but a frown crossed her face.
I willed happiness into my thoughts and, pushing everything else away, reached out for her mind again, smiling. The frown passed and she smiled back but I saw the lingering question in her eyes.
“Not now,” I thought. “We can’t talk about it now and I am too happy at our news to spoil it with bad thoughts now. We can deal with them later. OK?”
Her mind seemed to have cooled and the thought threads came distinctly.
“Yes all right. We have to get out of here. This place is unbearable.”
“Yes, I agree,” I thought. “I have a plan. We can wake up naturally in a minute. Don’t talk about the baby. Let’s keep that news to ourselves. Let’s get cleaned up, eat and chat normally, and then later this morning, we’ll go for a swim.”
She blinked and her hand fell from my cheek to my chest. Stroking the hair there she opened the outer top I was still wearing and with her hand sliding down inside opened it fully. I reached out and pulled her tight to me in a hug, her long black hair tickling my stomach. Her belly against mine. Our child in her belly, against mine. I stared at the ceiling, stroking her head, her breath warm upon my neck.
I waited until she dropped off to sleep again and then slipped out of the sleeper. Crossing the room, I went out to the deck. The sea breeze felt good against my skin. The white sand in front of me appeared dark gray in the dark before dawn, the sea black, white waves curling, flashing briefly and disappearing. I’m not going to tell her about killing Wigley. Not while the baby is growing in her. Maybe after. And then maybe not. And Gabriel was right. I can live with it. I don’t like it, but I can live with it. I let my thoughts drift aimlessly on the breeze.
The sun rose, a blood red orange revealed by the revolution of the land I was standing on. Red sky in morning, sailors take warning. I thought back over the last couple of months. It was only the 5th of December when I had met Gabriel. It seemed like another life. It was another life. Life before Gabriel. Life before Mariko. Life before my baby.
I sensed her behind me and turned. She was trying to quietly open the sliding doors. I grinned and she smiled shyly back, caught. I looked at her through the Clearfilm. No one was ever going to take her away from me again. The door slid open with a loud squeak. She walked out to where I was standing at the railing and looked out to sea. Her hair wafted up on the breeze.
“You ready for a swim?” she said, and turned to me. I smiled.
“Race you there.”
***
Later that evening we ate at Abdul’s restaurant. He had been a bit cold with me since Gabriel’s letter had been broadcast, but he thawed out as the evening wore on. We had a few beers and ate a lot of seafood cooked on a small fire on the beach. Abdul shrugged off our offer of help to clean up.
Grinning, he said, “How could I charge you for the meal if you clean up. Go, go.”
We walked back along the beach, the breeze absent now, just the lap-slosh sound of the sea keeping us company as we headed for home. I stiffened. Sir Thomas and Charles were on the deck looking in our direction. We changed angle away from the edge of the surf and walked towards them acro
ss the white sand.
I could hear the sound of the sand shifting beneath our feet as we approached.
“Splendid place you have here, Jonah,” Sir Thomas called out standing against the railing, spreading his arms wide to take in the beach. Charles was behind him near the sliding doors. I walked up the steps from the beach, looking up at him. I held the look until I was on the deck and looking down at him. I didn’t say anything. Mariko was behind me. I turned and smiled at her.
“Could you get my uncle and me a beer?”
“Sure, Jonah.”
Sir Thomas, with his hands clasped behind his back, said, “Terrible thing that Gabriel kidnapping you, my girl, Terrible. Just glad that we were able to get you out of there safe and sound. Eh. And how are you holding up, my dear?”
Mariko smiled at Sir Thomas and didn’t say anything. She walked past Charles who stepped back to let her pass into the house. I’d put the gun in the cool box before we had left for Abdul’s. I had told her in the cave that Gabriel had given it to me for protection and that we’d put it in the cool box - where we kept the beers.
I watched her disappear down the stairs, and listened carefully, feeling uneasy at her being out of sight. Then I turned to Sir Thomas, leaned my forearms on the railing of the deck and looked sideways at him. He smiled.
“Don’t ever lay a finger on her again. She’s mine. All right?”
The smile disappeared off Sir Thomas’s face and I heard Charles shift his stance.
“Now there’s no need to get upset, Jonah. It was a simple precautionary measure. I know how much you feel for the girl and I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t talk about our, um, arrangement before it was consummated.”