Gotta B

by Claire Carmichael

  ‘But why would Audrey believe that?’

  ‘Joe can be very persuasive. It helps him that Audrey is paranoid about the company’s continuing success. Her father built Farront from nothing into a communications giant. Audrey is constantly comparing her achievements to her dead father’s, and striving to do better than he did.’

  ‘And last night? What was so important?’

  ‘Audrey’s asked Joe to discuss with me in depth my so-called “conflict of interest” between Rob and my job.’

  ‘Seems to me,’ said Tal, ‘that the guy’s trying to force you to resign.’

  ‘If so, he’ll be waiting for a long time.’ She gave a grim smile. ‘Of course, Audrey could fire me.’

  Tal went to George Everett’s house that afternoon. He’d thought long and hard about his intentions for Joe Villabona. No way could he tell his mother or Rob Anderson – they wouldn’t let him get involved in anything illegal, however excellent the reason. And his mother would be shocked if she learned Tal was willing to reveal confidential information about Farront.

  Rob and FinagleAlert might discover some of Joe Villabona’s secrets, but the vital facts about him would be buried so deep that it would take extraordinary skill to find them. George wasn’t just brilliant, he wasn’t at all constrained by laws protecting electronically stored information. And Tal knew that if George were caught, he himself would be at risk.

  It was worth it. Like a spider sitting in the centre of a web, Villabona was linked to many of the bad things that had happened lately. Since he’d appeared on the scene, Audrey’s attitude towards Grace had changed for the worse, to the point where her career was now in real jeopardy. Villabona had persuaded Audrey to establish The Farront Centre and install Dr Renfrew and Dr Unwin to carry out research that Victor O’Dell condemned as dangerous to young minds. And there was Victor’s hit-and-run accident – if it were an accident.

  Lastly, Rick. There was something odd about his disconnection and how keen Villabona and Unwin had been to talk Thelma into having Rick admitted for treatment. Tal was convinced that the fake terrorist threats were not the work of Maryann Dodd, spiteful though she could be. Tal thought Villabona would have the expertise to set Rick up, but what was in it for him?

  George Everett’s large family lived in a rambling house that was comfortably run-down. The peeling paint and sagging wooden steps up to the front verandah were part of the building’s relaxed charm.

  Tal made his way around a haphazard pile of kids’ bicycles, climbed the sloping stairs, and was about to knock on the front door when it was flung open. A stream of kids came rocketing out and down the stairs. They grabbed the bicycles and disappeared noisily down the street.

  ‘Thank God the noisy little creeps are outta here,’ said George. ‘Come in.’ He led the way down the uncarpeted hall. ‘Hope you don’t mind, but I asked Frank Arran over. He’s good, maybe better than me in some areas –’ he winked – ‘but don’t let him know that.’

  George opened a door that advised in roughly painted red letters that anyone who entered uninvited could expect to die horribly.

  ‘How many kids in your family?’ Tal enquired.

  George made a face. ‘Don’t ask. Every time I look, there seems to be another one.’

  The room was so packed with electronic equipment that there was very little space left over. Tal followed George as he squeezed his chubby body between two loaded benches, to discover Frank Arran sprawled in a chair, staring fixedly at a monitor.

  ‘Yo,’ he said absently, waving a hand at Tal.

  Where George was plump, Frank was skinny, with long lank hair that fell over his face. Like George, he was wearing an ancient T-shirt bearing the faded words, JOIN THE NERD HERD, and even more disreputable shorts. Tal felt positively overdressed in jeans and plain white T-shirt.

  Looking around, Tal wondered how George could afford all this expensive electronic equipment.

  As if reading his mind, George said, ‘Who paid for this stuff? Me. I’ve been creating applications for communicators, mainly iZods, but also apps for BeauBrutes and Cascaders.’ With a satisfied smile, he went on, ‘I made more than my dad last year.’

  ‘Wow.’

  Becoming business-like, George said, ‘Now about your problem …’

  ‘Before we start, I’ve got a question. Does Maryann Dodd have the skills to hack into the school website and post the terrorist threats Rick was supposed to have made?’

  George shoved his sliding specs into place as he thought it over. ‘It’s unlikely. She hasn’t got the patience. Dodder’s best at cyber bullying. That’s her strength.’

  He pushed a moth-eaten office chair in Tal’s direction, and plopped down in a similar seat. ‘Frank’s keen to help, if that’s okay.’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘So what do you want us to find out for you?’

  Tal outlined the two areas of interest involving Villabona. The first concerned his mother’s career at Farront. The second, Rick’s welfare, which brought Renfrew and Unwin into the picture.

  As he spoke, George tapped notes into his mini-notebook. He broke off to say, ‘Getting the info on your targets one, two and three involves doing things that aren’t strictly legal, so it’s good we have a MAD situation here.’

  ‘A mad situation?’ said Tal, puzzled.

  ‘The nuclear stand-off between Russia and the States last century? They could wipe each other off the face of the earth. That’s mutually assured destruction, also known as MAD.’

  ‘Gee, thanks for the history lesson,’ said Tal dryly.

  ‘Anytime. Now, this is how MAD works for us: I can’t tell anyone you’ve been giving me classified stuff on Farront, because if I do, you’ll dob me in for major hacking; you can’t tell anyone about my hacking, because if you do, I’ll blow the whistle on you for disclosing confidential company information. MAD keeps us both honest.’

  ‘Keeps me honest, too,’ said Frank, tapping away at the keyboard while he glared at the computer screen.

  ‘Remember,’ said George, ‘that unless you’re in this room, which is fully shielded, or somewhere else you’re absolutely sure has an impenetrable electronic curtain, you have to act as though every communication you send and receive is being actively monitored.’

  ‘Big Brother is watching you,’ said Frank. ‘In fact, he’s watching all of us.’

  ‘Isn’t that a bit paranoid?’ said Tal.

  George grinned. ‘Maybe not paranoid enough. Big Brother is watching. Believe it.’

  Rick felt as though his brain had been removed and replaced with tightly packed cotton wool. He dimly remembered having breakfast and then getting terribly sleepy. After that, nothing, until he woke to find himself lying on a metal tray that was slowly moving backwards. He squinted down his body and saw that the tray was withdrawing from a tunnel in the centre of a huge white machine. A cold breeze was blowing from the tunnel and chilling his bare feet.

  It was an effort to keep his eyes open, so he allowed them to slide shut.

  ‘Very satisfactory scan,’ said a male voice behind him. ‘Note the effect of the drug on the patient’s frontal lobes.’

  The voice was familiar. In his imagination Rick saw a handsome, smiling man. A smile he loathed. He concentrated on dredging up a name. Dr Unwin. Dr Howard Unwin.

  Dr Unwin went on. ‘He’ll be an excellent subject for research once we induce severe depression.’

  ‘I’ll arrange to intensify sensory deprivation,’ said a second voice. Who was this? Another face swam into Rick’s mind. Someone famous. Rick had the name – Dr Renfrew.

  Dr Unwin said, ‘Then we’ll administer a second severe emotional shock to precipitate the necessary clinical depression.’

  ‘I’m not sure of the ethics –’

  ‘Jesus, man! It’s a bit late in the game to develop moral principles. You’ve bent the rules before, now all you have to do is bend them a bit more.’

  After a pause, Renfrew said, ‘Of
course you’re right,’ although he didn’t sound entirely convinced.

  ‘Did Joe get into Stein’s files?’ said Unwin briskly, changing the subject.

  The fuzziness was rapidly leaving Rick’s mind. He immediately knew who Dr Stein was. He had very blue eyes and a soft, pleasant voice.

  Renfrew, sounding more confident, said, ‘Joe’s nothing less than a computer genius, so he didn’t have any trouble copying the entire case file. The boy’s a classic case of survivor guilt.’

  ‘Excellent! We can work on that aspect under drug-induced hypnosis.’

  Although he knew he should be alarmed at what he was hearing, Rick felt strangely detached. Some sense of self-preservation kept him very still and breathing slowly and evenly. What would they do to him if they discovered he’d woken up and had been listening to their conversation?

  ‘I still have some reservations,’ said Renfrew. ‘In my opinion, he’ll be suicidal if we administer the entire program of treatment you’re suggesting.’

  Clearly impatient, Unwin said, ‘The patient will be on suicide watch twenty-four/seven. He won’t have an opportunity to hurt himself.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘I haven’t got time to discuss it now. We’ll talk later. Buzz for Luis, will you?’

  Rick heard Dr Renfrew ask for Luis to come to room three, and then the sound of receding footsteps as the two doctors left. Just in case someone else was watching, he kept his eyes shut.

  ‘Okay, Rick. Rise and shine.’

  Pretending to waken, Rick dragged open his eyes. ‘What?’ Bending over him was a medical orderly. ‘Luis?’

  ‘That’s me, kid. Now let’s get you up on your feet and walking.’ He helped Rick stand. ‘Here, put these slippers on.’

  For a moment Rick considered telling Luis what he’d just heard. But what if Luis went to the doctors and told them he’d been awake when they had thought he was unconscious?

  Instead he asked, ‘What have they been doing to me?’

  ‘You’ll have to ask your doctors.’ There was a note of suppressed anger in Luis’s voice. Then, relenting, he said, ‘You’ve had a brain scan using the very latest equipment. Now, no more questions. You’re going back to your room.’

  ‘But there’s nothing to do there.’

  ‘Not my problem, kid.’

  As they were walking down the hallway towards the clinic’s secure wing, Luis said, ‘I’ve got a message for you from your grandma.’

  ‘Is Thelma here? Can I see her?’

  ‘No visitors until Dr Renfrew and Dr Unwin say so.’

  ‘Jeez …’

  ‘Look, kid, I’m bending rules doing this, but your grandma begged me. Everything’s supposed to go though official channels, so don’t breathe a word to anyone, okay?’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘It’s your granddad. He’s much, much better. This morning he was wide awake and able to sit up in bed. The doctor told your grandma the signs were excellent for a complete recovery.’

  Rick found himself smiling for the first time in days. ‘Really? That’s great.’

  ‘Play it cool. You’re not supposed to have any messages from outside that haven’t been cleared by Dr Renfrew or Dr Unwin, so don’t let anyone know you’ve heard the good news.’

  ‘I don’t understand why I can’t get messages from Thelma and my friends.’

  Luis shrugged. ‘Part of your treatment, kid.’

  Back in his room, Rick found the artificial view had been switched off, leaving a blank cream wall to stare at. And the faint music had gone too. He told himself he didn’t mind: he could sit and think how great it was that his grandfather was so much better.

  Five minutes later he was up and examining the ceiling and walls again for the pinhole lens he knew was there. This was the psychiatric ward, so he had to be under constant surveillance. And he’d just heard Dr Unwin say he’d be watched twenty-four/seven. A horrible anxiety began to rise in him, but he pushed it away.

  He couldn’t find the lens, so with absolutely nothing to capture his attention, Rick flung himself down on the bed. Maybe they were trying to drive him mad with boredom.

  Two words popped into his head: sensory deprivation. Rick had an idea what it meant. He’d ask Luis next time he saw him.

  With a shudder, Rick faced what he had deliberately avoided thinking about. Unwin had said suicide watch. The doctors were going to play with his mind until he fell into such despair he’d want to die.

  ‘No way,’ he said, then louder, ‘No way!’

  TWENTY-THREE

  At school on Monday everyone was still talking about Rick and the lockdown and how practically everybody had something on a social networking site, starring themselves. Yvette Sarno’s hysterical turn for the media was a popular clip, with opinion evenly split between those who approved and those who shared David’s derisive view of Yvette’s acting abilities.

  ‘She’s a total ham,’ he was saying to Tal and Jennie, when Petra came rushing up.

  ‘Omigod, have I got news for you! You’re not going to believe what my mother’s done!’

  ‘She’s sold Garden Stuff and given the money to a charity for disadvantaged garden gnomes?’ Tal suggested.

  ‘Very funny,’ said Petra, laughing in spite of herself, ‘but no. Mum’s setting up a committee of parents and teachers to fight cyber bullying. I thought she’d forgotten all about it, since the attacks on me have pretty well dried up, but I should have known better. My mother never forgets anything.’

  ‘This is all very interesting,’ said David, ‘but get to the point, if there is one.’

  ‘You’ll never guess who volunteered to chair the committee. Lois Dodd!’

  ‘You’re kidding?’ said David, a delighted smile spreading over his face. ‘Your mother doesn’t know Maryann is queen of the cyber bullies at our school?’

  ‘She knows about Maryann, but Dodder’s mother has no clue.’

  ‘This could get nasty,’ said Jennie.

  ‘Yes, couldn’t it?’ said Petra cheerfully.

  Laughing, David said, ‘Dodder’s mother will curl up and die when she discovers her darling daughter caused the lockdown.’

  ‘We don’t know for sure that she did,’ said Tal. ‘I asked George his opinion and he said it was unlikely.’

  ‘Then who?’ said Jennie. ‘We know it wasn’t Rick.’

  ‘That’s what I want to talk to you all about,’ said Tal, ‘but it has to be at my place after school.’

  ‘Why your place?’ Petra frowned. ‘I’m grounded, remember? I’m supposed to go straight home.’

  ‘Because our house is protected by an electronic curtain. I’m not going to say anything else now. I’ll explain this afternoon.’

  ‘I still think Maryann had something to do with it,’ said David. ‘At the very least she spread the stories about Rick seeing a psychiatrist. I vote we front up to her at lunchtime.’

  Petra was all for it. ‘Great idea! She deserves everything she gets.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Tal doubtfully.

  ‘I agree with Petra and David,’ said Jennie. ‘You’re outvoted, Tal.’

  When classes were released at lunchtime, the four of them waylaid Maryann Dodd in the hallway before she could meet up with her clique.

  ‘We’re here to congratulate you, Dodder,’ said Petra. ‘It’s not everyone whose mother leads a cyber bullying committee.’

  Maryann would normally pounce on anyone who called her by the nickname she loathed. Instead she looked a bit sick and said, ‘Thanks. Now, if you don’t mind …’

  ‘We mind,’ said David.

  ‘Omigod,’ said Petra. ‘Imagine what your mother will say when she finds out it was you who pretended to be Rick and made those terrorist threats.’

  Maryann’s customary superior manner had deserted her. ‘I didn’t. Please believe me.’

  ‘Then who?’ said Tal.

  ‘I only know it wasn’t me.’

  ‘It’s a crime t
o make a terrorist threat,’ Jennie pointed out.

  Petra added, ‘And Rick could take you to court and sue you for what you’ve put him through.’

  ‘I haven’t put him through anything.’

  ‘Come on, Dodder,’ said David. ‘Admit you set Rick up. And you didn’t give a thought to the fact the cops could kill him.’

  Maryann appeared genuinely upset by the accusation. ‘I tell you, it wasn’t me! It had to be Rick himself, or somebody else. It isn’t something I’d do. You’ve got to believe me.’

  ‘It’s exactly the sort of thing you’d do,’ Petra said with scorn. ‘Remember the great time you and your lame friends had last week attacking me online? And what about making everyone think that Rick was nuts?’

  Maryann was fast regaining her usual arrogant attitude. ‘Okay, I might have had something to do with posting messages about Petra.’ She shot a vicious look in her direction. ‘And I’m not sorry. You deserved it.’

  ‘And what about Rick?’

  ‘So what if I found out he’d been a bit of a mental case in the past? I thought people should know, that’s all.’

  ‘You’re such a bitch,’ said Petra in disgust.

  ‘Say what you like about me, but I never posted those threats to the school’s website.’

  ‘Do you believe her?’ David asked the others.

  ‘You know,’ said Jennie, ‘I think I do.’

  Petra called Rosa and said she’d been held up at school. ‘I’ll come up with a convincing story later,’ she said to the others, who were sitting around in a comfortable little room Tal’s mother called the lounging area.

  After Tal had told them about his visit with George Everett, he said, ‘You can’t tell anyone about this. Play dumb if it ever comes up because –’