Hank purses his lips and looks at his dad. “All right.”
“Thanks,” Sue says. She steps toward the doors and keeps walking as the tall panes of glass slide open silently.
Hank and Mervin follow, and as a swirl of cool, fragrant air rushes out to meet them, Hank takes a deep breath.
“That’s better,” Mervin says. He stands still as the doors close behind him, and he turns on the spot, his head tilted back and his eyes raised, like a tourist in the Sistine Chapel. What’s he staring at? Hank thinks. But then he looks up, and he understands.
The lobby is a wide, open space, and its shape echoes the sweeping curves of the building’s exterior. The floor is tiled with almost seamless slabs of gleaming black granite, and the curved walls are clad in polished wooden panels that glow with a deep, warm luster. And the lobby is also an atrium, its walls soaring upward, all the way to the top of the building, where the atrium is capped by a crystal clear dome of colorless, sparkling glass.
What would it be like to stand up there? Hank wonders. It would be so cool to climb up and look down at everyone.
“The wall panels—are they made from cherry wood?” Mervin asks.
Sue looks around as though seeing the place for the first time. “Yes, I believe so.” She looks at Mervin. “How did you know?”
Mervin smiles. “It’s the grain. And the color. I’d know it anywhere.”
“I’m impressed,” Sue says. “OK, let’s get you registered and then when you’re ready, we’ll take a look around.”
“You still haven’t—” Hank begins, but before he can finish his sentence, a dark-haired young man joins them.
“Good morning,” the man says. “Welcome to our candidate event. My name is Alain Duval.”
Hank looks the young man up and down. Like Sue, Alain is smartly dressed and clean-cut. His dark hair is combed carefully into a side parting, and his pale gray suit is effortlessly stylish. He’s probably only a few years older than Hank, but he carries himself with a certain calm confidence, and he has the poise of a natural sportsman.
“Morning,” Mervin says. “I take it you’re from France?”
“Yes, originally.” Alain bows his head apologetically. “Please forgive my accent—I’m afraid that it lingers, although I have been with the Trust, and away from France, for over three years now.”
Mervin waves Alain’s apology aside. “Think nothing of it. Your English is a darned sight better than my French.”
“Alain, this is Hank and his dad, Mervin,” Sue says. “Would you bring over their welcome packs while I get them registered?”
“Certainly.” Alain gives them a smile and then walks away.
Sue extends her arm toward a curved wooden desk. Like everything else in the lobby, the desk is pristine and highly polished, and its surface is empty apart from a small laptop. “Please come over to the reception desk. This won’t take a moment.”
Hank and Mervin follow Sue to the desk, and she immediately busies herself at the keyboard. After thirty seconds of rapid typing, she turns to face them. “Now, if you could position yourself in front of the laptop so that your face appears centrally on the screen, the system will register you automatically. Who wants to go first?”
“Hank?” Mervin says. “It’s your day.”
“All right,” Hank says. He stands in front of the desk and watches his image on the screen. He has to bend a little, but as soon as his face is centered on the display, a message flashes up: Registration Complete for Hank Settler.
Hank straightens his back. “That was fast. Facial recognition?”
Sue purses her lips. “The system works on a number of factors, including your retina, and there’s also an algorithm that can detect signs of stress, in case someone is up to no good.”
Hank frowns. The number of questions building up in his brain is growing higher by the second. But before he can figure out what to ask first, Mervin puts a hand on his shoulder. “OK, let your old man have his turn.”
“Sure.” Hank steps aside and watches his dad go through the same process. As Mervin moves left and right, Hank turns to Sue. “What did you mean about people being up to no good?”
“That’s a good question,” Sue says, “and it takes me into the little speech I have to do next. Are you all done there, Mervin?”
Mervin stands tall and moves to Hank’s side. “I reckon so. Took me a minute to get it, but I think it went through OK.”
“Right,” Sue says. “Here goes. We want to show you some of the very best that the Trust can offer, and for that reason, some of the tech you’ll see today is real bleeding edge stuff. I’m talking about systems that very few people outside this building have even heard of. Some of the tech is not ready for release yet and some of it is commercially sensitive, so I’ll have to ask you to sign our standard non-disclosure agreement, and I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to place any recording or communication devices in a secure locker until it’s time for you to leave. It’s really just a formality, but I’m sure you can see the reasons for it. I hope that’s OK. Do you want to ask me any questions at this point, or are you happy to proceed?”
Hank and Mervin share a look. “What sort of tech are we going to see?” Hank asks.
Sue smiles. “The latest in VR, alongside our newest developments in interactive and holographic technologies.” She pauses. “I’m afraid I can’t say more than that until after you sign the NDA.”
“I guess it makes sense,” Mervin says. “All right with you, Hank?”
Hank nods reluctantly. “OK. But can you tell me about how you got my photo? And how come the facial recognition knew who I was? What did your system compare it to?”
Sue takes a breath. “I know how you’re feeling. At first glance, it can all seem a bit like Big Brother, but it’s worth remembering that the Trust’s education program is very specialized and very expensive to run. It’s a great program, but not everyone is a good fit for the way we work. We have to be very selective, and one of the ways the Trust exercises due diligence is by running background checks on all potential candidates.”
“And somehow you have access to my school records? Aren’t they supposed to be confidential?”
“I’m sure they are,” Sue says. “We totally respect your privacy. But our systems use machine learning to pull large amounts of data from publicly available sources. It’s all legitimately obtained and if you don’t join the program, it will all be permanently erased from our systems. Does that answer your questions?”
Hank studies Sue’s expression. “I don’t know. There’s something—”
“Come on, Hank,” Mervin interrupts. “You know about this stuff better than I do. We all have a digital footprint, or fingerprint, or whatever they call it.” He looks at Sue. “That’s right isn’t it?”
Sue nods. “Oh yes. Very much so. I can assure you, Hank, that the Trust treads carefully in this area. If we didn’t, our reputation would be ruined and the consequences could be catastrophic.”
“I’m ready to sign your paperwork, anyway,” Mervin says. “I’m sure Hank is too, right?”
Hank lifts his left shoulder in a half shrug. “All right, Dad. I’m just being careful, that’s all.”
“OK,” Sue says breezily. She turns back to the laptop and its screen fills with text. “If you could both read this agreement through, you’ll find a space at the bottom with your names on it. When you get there, just press your thumb against the touchpad and it will serve as your digital signature.”
Hank and Mervin lean forward to read the text. At least it’s shorter than I expected, Hank thinks. The document is short, clear, and written in plain English, and it’s pretty much exactly as Sue said it would be: they can’t share any information about the tech they see today, and they mustn’t disclose the names of the people they meet, unless there are extenuating circumstances.
“Happy?” Mervin asks.
Hank nods, and they take it in turns to record their thumbprints.
“Great,” Sue says. She reaches down behind the desk and produces a small plastic box. “If you could place your phones and any other recording devices in here, we’ll stow them safely in a locker. Don’t worry, they’ll be quite safe. You’ll have the only key.”
Hank and Mervin hand over their phones and Sue takes the box over to the wall beside the desk. She touches a panel and it clicks open, revealing an array of small metal doors. Some of them have keys hanging from the locks, and Sue opens one of them and places the plastic box inside. She closes and locks the door and then pulls the key out and hands it to Mervin. “All done,” she says. “Now, let’s see where Alain has got to with your welcome packs.”
She breezes past them and as soon as her back is turned, Hank grabs his dad’s arm. “Dad, I’m not sure about this place,” he hisses. “Something just isn’t right.”
Mervin looks around the lobby. “I can understand, Hank. It’s all very different from what you’re used to. But everything Sue said makes sense to me. This is a high-class place and you can see they’ve spent a lot of money to make it nice. They’re bound to be pretty choosy about who they let in. And they chose you, Hank. Think of that. And just think how many people would kill to be in your shoes right now.”
“I know. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but it’s weirding me out.”
“Let’s go with it, son. We’ve come this far and we’ve done the registration. The least we can do is see what they have to offer. We haven’t committed to anything—not one thing. All right?”
Hank exhales noisily. “You’re right. Let’s see how it plays out.”
Sue returns, wearing a wide smile and carrying two sleek packages wrapped in transparent plastic. “Here you go. They’re labeled with your names. Open them up and then we’ll be good to go.”
“Thanks,” Hank says as he takes his package. He checks the label then looks up at his dad.
Mervin nods. “Go ahead, son.”
Hank tears the plastic open revealing a rectangular pouch about the size and shape of a legal pad. The pouch is beautifully made, cut from real leather, and its soft surface is smooth and pliant against his fingertips. He turns it around in his hands and locates the flap that seals the pouch shut. He pulls it open and the concealed fastenings part with a satisfying pop. Inside there’s a glossy brochure, a few loose documents, and something that looks like a pair of wraparound sunglasses. “Wait a minute,” Hank murmurs. “I know what these are.” He holds his breath and takes hold of the sunglasses. They’re heavier than he expects, and he pulls them out slowly, his fingers trembling. “I’ve heard of these,” he says. “These are the new H3 headsets.”
“And what are they?” Mervin asks. “Some kind of VR gear?”
Hank shakes his head. “More than that, Dad. They’re wearable computers with a full neural interface. They’ll make VR chairs a thing of the past.”
“I’m impressed,” Sue says. “Most people don’t realize what they’re holding right away. But I’m afraid you’re wrong, Hank.”
Hank’s face falls.
“I remember the old H3’s,” Sue goes on. “We had great fun with them back when I started.”
“But, that’s not right,” Hank says. “The H3’s haven’t even come out yet, but you said you’re in your fourth year here, so you can’t have had one of these when you started.”
Sue gives him a knowing smile. “Like I said, the tech we deal with at the Trust is at the bleeding edge. We get our hands on all kinds of gear a long time before it goes on general release. And some of the gear we get to use is never made public at all, but used exclusively by government agencies.”
“What do you mean by that?” Mervin asks, and for the first time in a while, Hank hears a cold edge of suspicion in his dad’s voice. “The military?”
“Sometimes,” Sue says, “though that’s relatively rare. Most of our work is for purely civilian applications.”
“Listen, if these kids are acting like goddamned guinea pigs for the army, I want to know about it,” Mervin says, and his brow is deeply furrowed, his eyes alight with anger.
“Are you all right, Dad?” Hank asks. “Do you want a glass of water or something?”
“I’m fine,” Mervin says. “But I’d like to hear the answer to a simple question.” He stares at Sue. “How about it? Does this place have some connection with the army or not?”
Sue looks down at the floor and murmurs something that sounds like, “Oh dear.” But when she looks back up, she’s just as calm and collected as before. She shakes her head gently. “I think I may have given the wrong impression. I’m sorry, Mr. Settler. I shouldn’t have been showing off.”
“It’s all right,” Hank says, and slowly, he puts the headset back in its pouch. He looks at Sue. “Could we get a glass of water, or a coffee or something?”
“Of course. I’ll take you through to the main exhibition hall. There are refreshments laid on in there, and I’ll answer your questions while we get a drink.” She half turns. “Shall we?”
“Yeah,” Hank says. “Come on, Dad. Let’s get something. It feels like a long time since breakfast.”
“All right,” Mervin says quietly. “But I’m telling you, Hank, if I think the military are running this show, we’ll be out of here like a shot.”
“I know, Dad. You’ll get no arguments from me.”
Sue is already walking away, so they hurry to catch up with her. She leads them through a set of double doors, and if Hank thought the lobby was impressive, he has to update his frame of reference pretty damned fast. The exhibition hall is vast, and while the lobby was quiet and almost empty, this room is buzzing with activity. Ranged around the room are a bewildering number of stands, each one bristling with high-tech equipment. Smartly dressed young men and women stand by each display, and from their clothes and appearance, Hank guesses they must be running the exhibits.
Milling around the hall are a few dozen people who look as though they’re about Hank’s age. At least I’m not the only one in jeans and a t-shirt, Hank thinks. Most of the young people have a parent or two in tow, and some have gathered into small groups to watch demonstrations. All of them are wearing headsets.
Sue leads them to a table that boasts a range of pastries, cakes and tempting snacks. On the other side of the table, a young woman stands up from her seat and looks at them expectantly.
“Please ask for anything you want,” Sue says. “And of course, it’s all complimentary.”
Hank runs his eyes over the table, then he gives the young woman a smile; he’s been on her side of the counter often enough to know that a little appreciation goes a long way. “This all looks great, but just two regular coffees, please. Black. And if you could make one of them decaf, that would be great.”
“Coming right up,” the woman says. “And yes, we do have decaf.”
“Cool.” Hank gives her another smile. “Thank you very much.”
Hank takes the drinks, thanking the woman one last time, then he hands the decaffeinated coffee to his dad. “There you go, Dad. Enjoy.”
“Thanks, son.” Mervin takes a sip then looks at Sue. “You were going to tell us how the military fit into all this.”
Sue nods. “I didn’t mean to overstate the connection, but it’s true that some students do work that ultimately leads to military applications.”
“Such as what?” Mervin asks.
“I can’t give you concrete examples,” Sue says. “That wouldn’t be appropriate at all.”
An awkward silence develops and Hank takes a long drink from his cup. “I guess, what we want to know is, who’s really in charge? Where does all the money come from?”
Sue bristles. “The Trust is completely independent. We work with governments and corporations all around the world, but we’re essentially self-funding. Our research generates all the money we need, and we choose our projects and our partners very carefully.”
“So why all the secrecy?” Mervin asks.
“That sounds fine,” Hank says quickly, “but I’ve finished with mine.” He drains his cup and puts it down on the counter. “You ready, Dad?”
“Yeah, I’ve had enough thanks. “ He puts his almost full cup beside Hank’s and gives the young woman a wry smile. “Nothing wrong with the coffee—it was fine. I’m just not thirsty after all.”
“If you’re ready, we’ll move on. It’s just over there.” Sue gestures toward a stand where a man and a willowy girl with long, blonde hair are in conversation with a familiar figure. “And you’ve already met Alain.”
“Right,” Mervin says.
They make their way across the room and stand beside the man and the girl.
“And as you can see, the core components here…” Alain pauses and waves his hand in the air. “These are the foundation upon which the subsequent years are based.”
The man and the girl nod wisely but remain staring into the middle distance.
“Excuse me, Alain,” Sue says, and three heads turn to face her. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but can you rewind a little. I’d like Hank and Mervin to see the program structure from the ground up.”
Alain smiles. “No problem at all. We’ve only just begun.” He nods toward his audience. “Hank, Mervin, let me introduce you to Laura and her father, James.”
“Hi,” Mervin says. “Nice to meet you both. This certainly is some place isn’t it?”
“Hello,” James says. “Yes. I must admit I’m impressed—so far, anyway.” He sniffs then turns away as if dismissing Mervin from his mind, and his daughter follows suit.
Pair of assholes, Hank thinks, and he gives his dad a look, but Mervin narrows his eyes, daring his son to say something.
“OK,” Alain says. “Hank and Mervin, I have to ask you to wear your headsets for this demonstration. In fact, you may as well leave them on while you’re in the hall. Without them, you’ll miss most of what’s on display.”
The Trust (The Downlode Heroes Book 2) Page 5