The Society's Demon

by Matthew Lloyd

  The woman stopped working, rested her head against the pile of already full bags, and seemed to fall asleep. Bokang took a breath to scream, but a sudden heat filled her, leaving her weak. She quickly righted the fallen stool and sat down. It was just the heat, she thought to herself, and the stress of worrying for Eben. She just needed to get some fresh air. When she tried to stand, her vision blurred and her stomach turned. Quickly she sat back down and called for help, but there was no reply. Looking around, she saw the workers falling asleep, one by one, like nightmare dominoes.

  Some fell into the drugs, some to the floor, others just slumped and fell under the workbench. The dawning of understanding reached her mind. They weren’t asleep, they were dead!

  “It’s the chemicals, there’s a leak, got to get out!” Bokang managed to stand unsteadily, covering her mouth and nose in an effort to stop the gas or whatever was killing the workers. She almost fell against the door, her hand catching the handle almost by accident. On the other side, in the empty section of the warehouse, she fell to her knees and began to crawl away. The binoculars still hung around her neck swung backwards and forwards as she tried to keep moving. Finally, she bumped into something and found the old woman lying there on her back, as if asleep. Beyond was the first of the two enforcers, face down in the pool of blood leaking from his broken nose.

  Bokang tried to continue, but she was just too tired. Instead, she laid down, closed her eyes, and died. If she’d been able to go any further, she would have found the second enforcer, also dead, curled up like a baby asleep in his bed. But this particular sleeper would never wake.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Tourist

  Aaron Parker sat in the lobby of a hotel in Johannesburg. He sat alone and in silence as a buzz of conversation filled the rest of the room. The lobby was typical of hotels almost everywhere he’d visited. This one was painted cream, had artificial flowers in pots around the room, and real ones on the small tables. There was a high ceiling, a long wooden counter polished to a shine, and a revolving door. The two wide windows had been opaque, with the hotel chain’s logo prominent in the center. Inevitably, the waiting area had developed into a cafe, with waiter service from a smaller counter in one corner.

  Until this morning, he hadn’t even been sure why he was here. He’d been contacted by a man called Keith Cline a few days before, who offered him a job with a sizable wage. He’d done some research and found out he was ex NSA and ex Quantum Society. He’d left the Society and set up an investigation into that very organization. In need of something to keep his mind off recent events, he agreed to fly to Johannesburg and await further contact.

  Just an hour ago, as he was getting ready in his hotel room, his phone rang and Cline appeared in person. He was obviously ex-military like Aaron, he sat upright in his large but sparse office, the stars and stripes on the wall behind him. With his round face and round glasses, Cline looked more like a school teacher, although his very short blonde hair was more army inspired. The picture pixilated and then cleared, Cline was obviously using some kind of encryption, what the intelligence forces called a secure line. So, his mission was serious, maybe even dangerous.

  “Mr. Parker, I see you’ve arrived safely.”

  “Yes sir, yesterday evening.”

  “Good. Now, as you are undoubtedly aware, the world is currently experiencing some kind of crisis. Hundreds of thousands dead, possibly millions, and with no known cause.”

  “Yes, sir, the TV is showing little else.”

  “Indeed, we, that is myself and the organization I work for, would like you to investigate the Quantum Society, and find proof if it exists, that they are behind all the deaths. The Society’s flagship operation is of course in Johannesburg, so it’s the perfect place to start. The Society think you’re there on a fact-finding mission. A representative will pick you up from the hotel and take you to Sohalo to show you around. Start digging from there, and go as far as they’ll let you. Take as long as you need, but remember, whatever is killing these people is still ongoing.”

  “Yes sir, I understand.”

  “Remember, we need hard evidence, incontrovertible proof, and nothing else. I will contact you every 24 hours. Only call me in an emergency.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good luck Mr. Parker.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Cline hung up and Aaron stared at the phone for a while. Although Cline had hinted at what the job entailed, his task seemed a little vague, to say the least. Well, he’d accepted now, nothing more to do than keep the appointment.

  Aaron glanced at the TV, it was showing an animated graphic of the assumed spread of the plague, as they were calling it. It had started in several major cities, then spread outwards, every nation on Earth affected equally, apart from a few tiny islands. As usual, the larger nations had immediately looked for someone to blame, and the old enmities had surfaced. Others had begun to look for a cause, but so far no one had proved anything definitively, although theories abounded. And, as usual, the conspiracy theorists, the anarchists, the disenchanted and the lost came up with theories of their own. Everything from alien death rays to governments thinning out the over-population, the rich clearing space so they could have larger estates, the food manufacturers cutting corners, and a superbug made by whichever country, religion or political group they were disagreeing with that week.

  Aaron picked up his jacket and phone, and strapped the small pistol to his ankle, making sure it didn’t show through his trousers. He then made his way down to the lobby, taking a seat in the busy cafe area. He suspected it wasn’t usually this busy, but the latest news was causing something of a stir, to say the least. In other places, public gatherings had all but disappeared as paranoia set in. Here in Johannesburg, there’d been relatively few deaths, and those mostly criminals, so the people weren’t so twitchy.

  The lone waiter was doing his best, but Aaron had been waiting for his flat white for quite a while. He was beginning to think he’d never get his coffee. It didn’t bother him, he’d stopped worrying about such things several months ago. A cup of coffee was a minor detail in the scheme of things. Having, or not having, a hot drink wasn’t going to change the universe.

  With an effort of will, he ended his introspection, lifting his right hand and touching his jacket over his heart. This had become something of a habit ever since he’d put the photo of his wife and son in there. It was as if he was seeking their forgiveness for his thoughts and actions. Imaginary pep talk over, Aaron once again listened to the conversations of those around him. Luckily most were in English, he wasn’t good with languages.

  A young business man in a dark suit was talking to his colleague.

  “...bio-engineered I’d say, and they’ve got the antidote so they’re ok. And after getting their asses kicked in the middle east, I think they’re out for some pay back.”

  His colleague nodded in agreement.

  A middle-aged woman and her partner were talking over their coffees, both well dressed and well spoken. “...millions dead they said? Millions? I can’t see it myself. It’s obviously an exaggeration to get people’s attention. Click bait, that’s all it is.”

  “Hmm, I’m not so sure, although the spread rate and pattern they’re claiming isn’t anything like a pandemic, not at all. It certainly is very odd.”

  A local couple were speaking Afrikaans and pointing to a newspaper open on their tablet device, both of them stabbing at it with their fingers and talking over each other. He couldn’t read the headline, but the picture was one of those he’d seen in many places, a row of corpses lined up outside a prison. Every single inmate had died in their sleep, not a single prison guard was touched.

  An older man and a younger one, possibly father and son, were talking calmly about the situation. “...someone’s cleaning house. You can’t tell me this isn’t deliberate, targeted slaughter. Look
at the facts! Drug dealers, car thieves, murderers, all dead, no one else touched. Someone or something is systematically removing all the scum and leaving the rest alone. The Quantum Society haven’t been investigated deeply enough, in my opinion.”

  The father spoke with more thought. “I don’t think much of the news we’re getting is based on facts. What about the plane that went down…”

  “...that was an exception, and probably unrelated…”

  “...you can’t just pick and choose the facts to suit your argument.”

  Aaron stopped listening when the waiter finally brought over his coffee.

  “I’m very sorry sir, we’re unusually busy today.”

  “Don’t worry, it doesn’t matter, it’s only coffee.”

  “Yes sir, of course.”

  The waiter walked away, and Aaron had the vague feeling he’d upset him. He touched his heart again, then looked towards the doors, and then the huge brass clock on the wall above the counter. He was, as usual, far too early for his appointment. This was due to his military background, which also made him meticulous about his appearance. The dark suit he wore was pressed to perfection, the creases in his trousers were knife-sharp, and his black shoes were polished to a mirror finish. He was even wearing a tie, something most people had dumped years, if not decades ago. He’d also retained his short military style haircut. His skin and eyes were dark brown, and he’d been told he was handsome, although he didn’t think so. Some people also said he didn’t look 35, but somewhere in his twenties. This he agreed with, although the events of the last few months had aged him somewhat.

  That same military background, and his subsequent move into computer science was the reason Cline had approached him specifically. Well, that and the two other reasons, but they existed now only in his heart, and in the photo, he kept close to it. A sudden thought occurred to him. He was expendable. After mulling it over for a while, he decided he didn’t really care.

  At his lowest point after the accident... he touched his heart, why they called it an accident he didn’t know. Driving an eighteen-wheeler and falling asleep at the wheel was no accident... he’d been desperately searching for someone to blame, and then during one of his many sleepless nights, he heard the words Sleeping Death on the TV news for the first time.

  Even now, those words brought him to the edge of tears. He touched his heart, leaving it there for some moments as he controlled himself. Military training was good preparation for times such as this. His wife and son were killed, murdered, long before the plague of deaths had swept across the planet, but Aaron was in no way convinced there was no link. Until he found proof the Society wasn’t involved, he’d assume they were.

  He had to admit they were an unlikely suspect. Only a few miles from this hotel, the Society had turned around the lives of thousands of people, who’d been living in the worst squalor and poverty. The EDAI program had raised them up, educated and re-homed them. The entire area had been flattened, the slums gone, eco-friendly houses erected for all. Crime rates were virtually nil because no one went without. Life expectancy soared, no one died in childbirth, and the population had fallen due to effective contraception. The list, supplied by the Society, of course, had continued in such effusive self-praise for many pages, all impressive, but at what cost? Well today, maybe, he’d find out.

  When she arrived, precisely on time, the face of the Society was indeed a pretty one. Doctor Young was tall and slender, with long, wavy red hair, shiny brown eyes and generous lips. She looked about thirty, and radiated good health, walking with a bounce in her step and smiling at everyone, like she’d just received some great news and was bursting to share it. According to the Society, she was a physicist for them and would be acting as his guide. She was wearing a lacy white blouse over tight designer blue jeans, and flat shoes to match. What Aaron had taken as a sleeve on her right arm was, in fact, a tattoo, a brightly colored and perfectly rendered picture of a nebula.

  “Mr. Parker, good to meet you!” She smiled widely, no doubt about his identity, despite the fact they’d never met. She held out her hand.

  Aaron shook the offered hand; the grip was strong and lingered for longer than was strictly necessary.

  “Doctor Young, please, call me Aaron.”

  “Hello Aaron, and please call me Melissa. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting?”

  “Not at all, I have a habit of arriving far too early.”

  She smiled brightly again. “Shall we get started? I have a car outside, we can go straight to Sohalo and I’ll show you around. Feel free to ask any questions you have, I’ll do my best to answer them fully.”

  Doctor Young led the way out into the intense sun of a South African Morning, and over to a white car that looked like it was made of plastic. It was vaguely flying saucer shaped, like alien spaceships in those ancient movies. The wing door opened as they approached and Doctor Young stood aside to allow Aaron to enter.

  Aaron stopped and gestured for the Doctor to go first. She smiled and climbed aboard, taking a seat facing backwards. Aaron sat facing forwards, opposite the Doctor. The door closed without a sound, but his ears told him there’d been an increase in pressure.

  “Aaron, I would like you to meet ANI.”

  A voice, smooth and feminine emerged from a speaker hidden somewhere in the ceiling. “Hello Aaron, it’s good to have you here with us today. Please feel free to ask any questions at any time.”

  “Hello ANI, nice to meet you. And yes, I will.”

  More to fill the silence that followed than for any other reasons, Aaron asked about the car. He’d seen many self-driving cars, but most looked quite traditional, with a driver’s seat and a steering wheel, just in case things went wrong. This car had neither, and no instruments, no pedals, just four seats around a small table.

  “I see there’s no provision for a driver, what happens in emergencies?”

  The doctor smiled or rather smiled more. “We don’t have emergencies, ANI takes care of us.”

  “You must have had accidents at some point.”

  “Never, our safety record is 100%, and that includes accidents caused by other drivers, pedestrians, loose pets and once, a cow.”

  “Is that true?” Aaron asked, slightly skeptical.

  “It is indeed, we never exaggerate, lie or seek to deceive.”

  Interesting, Aaron thought, wondering if that statement itself was a lie. The car sped along the road at an impressive speed, certainly more than the posted speed limit, but otherwise obeyed all the rules of the road. Aaron never felt like he was in danger, the ride was smooth, with slow acceleration and braking.

  “Do you not get stopped by the police for driving so fast?” Aaron asked the car in general.

  Doctor Young answered. “Oh no, we have special permission to drive faster because of ANI. Besides, this is a diplomatic mission.”

  For some reason, the answer annoyed Aaron. Who were these people to put themselves above the law? It was a small thing, but that’s how it always started.

  “Are you well Aaron?”

  Aaron looked at the doctor and then down to his chest, where his hand was on his heart. “Oh, I’m fine, it’s a just a habit.” He was going to tell them about the photo but stopped himself. That was a private matter, and they didn’t need to know.

  The change from Johannesburg to Sohalo was dramatic and unmistakable. Everything changed, from the road noise to the quality of the light. Here the tarmac was smoother, he thought he’d even spotted the join in the road. It was like entering a town planner’s model, one of those ‘artist’s impressions’ that never turn out like they’re shown. Except Sohalo did.

  Although Aaron had seen before and after images of the site, they just didn’t give any sense of proportions. And it was so clean, and the people all had smiles like Melissa.

  The car stopped on the edge of town in a row o
f others identical to it. As soon as the door opened and the air and sound came in, Sohalo suddenly became a living place. People nearby were chattering amongst themselves, no mention of the Sleeping Death, nor anything negative at all. And the smells of cooking food wafting on the breeze from an unseen source made his mouth water.

  The doctor allowed him a few moments to take it all in, then climbed out and stood beside him. “I’m not going to lead you around Aaron, we have nothing to hide. Feel free to go in any direction you choose.”

  For a moment or two, Aaron suspected Melissa was playing some kind of psychological game, pretending his choices were his own, but subtly altering his behavior in some way. His hand nearly went to his heart, but he managed to control himself. He cursed himself for a fool, he was so easy to read.

  Sohalo village, as it was being called, contained almost a thousand houses, and was growing all the time. They were constructed of an amalgam of wood, corrugated iron and a board the locals made from material supplied by the Society. Each was weatherproof, had a constant electricity supply, indoor plumbing and running water. Each house was as large as the residents needed, no more and no less.

  The houses were joined by simple pathways of white material, which Melissa said was recycled plastic, designed to be slip proof in all weathers.

  “How long has it taken to get all this built?” Aaron asked.

  Melissa gave one of her trademark smiles. “Less than a month. As soon as the residents saw the first few houses go up, they were almost rioting for their own.”

  “How was it built so fast, robots?”

  Melissa laughed, and Aaron felt a lightening of his spirit, and he even smiled. “No, no robots. It was built by the people themselves, with help from the EDAI program and ANI of course. And those who couldn’t work or didn’t have the skills were helped by their neighbors. The residents literally built their own community.”