‘What about Mike and Allyx?’ interrupted Petra. ‘Are we going to keep them in the dark?’
‘I’m not sure,’ said Tal.
‘The fewer people who know, the better,’ Jennie pointed out. ‘None of us wants to end up in jail.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ said David. ‘We get the picture. And no talking about it on our comms, in case our messages are being scanned.’
‘What do we do about Rick?’ said Petra. ‘We can’t just leave him locked up.’
‘Can’t his grandmother get him out?’ David asked.
‘No way,’ said Petra. ‘Mum’s spoken with Thelma. She believes having Rick committed was the best thing she could do for him under the circumstances. When she signed the papers she gave the doctors complete control. They’re not allowing him any messages or visitors – he can’t even see Thelma. And Renfrew and Unwin have the final say whether Rick stays or goes.’
‘Then he’ll stay,’ said Tal. ‘and it worries the hell out of me what they’re doing to Rick while they’ve got him.’
Jennie looked appalled. ‘You can’t mean the doctors are experimenting on him.’
‘We have to get Rick outta there,’ said David decisively. ‘Tal, you’re starting Renfrew’s research project at the centre sometime this week, aren’t you?’
‘Wednesday afternoon.’
‘Okay, then you’ll be our eyes inside. All you have to do is find out where Rick is and how to get through the security.’ He added with a grin, ‘Simple, really!’
Tal took out his iZod. ‘I’ll get a floor plan of the centre. With a bit of luck it’ll indicate where the psychiatric ward’s located.’ After a moment, he swore.
‘What’s wrong?’ Petra asked.
‘It looks like I’ve just been made a disconnect.’
Rob came for dinner that evening. When he arrived, Tal said, ‘The hot news is that I’ve suddenly become a disconnect. Even Mum can’t find out why, or get me connected again.’
‘It’s so frustrating, Rob,’ she said. ‘I’ve just had a very interesting conversation with Ken Yeats, the head of Farront’s connectivity services. He said he’s sorry, but even for me his hands are tied and he can’t do anything to help.’
‘Wait until you hear why,’ said Tal.
‘Ken told me that for months Joe Villabona has been stacking connectivity services with his own people, to the point where Ken feels he’s on the verge of being forced out. Now Joe’s instructed Ken that from now on each case of teenage disconnection is to be referred to Farront’s public relations department. Restoration of the customer’s service is to be given a very low priority.’
Rob folded his lanky body into a lounge chair. ‘I think I can throw some light on the situation. FinagleAlert has been analysing the pattern of disconnects for the Big Three over the last year. In the last few months there’s been an inexplicable surge in the number of young people using Farront’s iZods who have become disconnects. No one was paying all that much attention to this, until those two kids made their dramatic suicide pact.’
‘The ubiquitous Ruth and Barry,’ said Tal’s mother. ‘Did you see the boy’s now out of danger? And like his girlfriend, he’s trying to sell his story.’
‘He won’t have any luck,’ said Tal. ‘It’s all ancient history now.’
‘It won’t be ancient history if a scandal breaks over deliberate disconnections,’ said Rob with a wry smile.
‘It’s something to do with Unwin and Renfrew, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, Tal, I believe you’re right. As I see it, the majority of disconnections for young iZod users are deliberately engineered. And prior to becoming disconnects, a significant number had applied, or had already been accepted, for Dr Renfrew’s research. Their psychological profiles could be used to select subjects for the stressful experience of disconnection.’
‘Apart from those profiles, Renfrew and Unwin would also have access to the data Farront keeps on every client,’ said Tal’s mother.
‘Including Rick?’
‘Of course.’
Tal said to Rob, ‘Dr Renfrew had background info on every person who’d applied to be in the small group discussions about his research. David and I were in the same group. I got accepted for the program, but David didn’t. Renfrew checked out his background, then told him he could go. He did the same with half the group.’
‘I’m not at all happy about you being in Renfrew’s program.’
‘Hey, Mum, you want me to dip out after he’s gone to all the trouble of making me a disconnect?’ Tal laughed as he added, ‘Let’s face it, people don’t come much saner than me, so I’m going to be a big disappointment to the guy.’
Rob shook his head. ‘Not at all. I think Renfrew’s focus is on highly stressed disconnects, but for valid research results he needs the whole range of responses, including yours, plus a control group who haven’t been disconnected. And Renfrew’s program is a gift to Dr Unwin, who can use it for his research into CWSS without having to spend the time and money to assemble the full range of subjects himself.’
Tal’s foreboding about what could be happening to Rick intensified. ‘Rick’s a special case, isn’t he?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ said Rob. ‘He has a history of depression and suicidal thoughts. He’s likely to have extreme reactions to continued disconnection, and that makes him a perfect research subject, particularly now that he appears to have had a breakdown.’
‘Rick was set up, you know he was!’
Rob spread his hands. ‘Maybe, but why?’
‘So they could experiment on him, and no one would know,’ said Tal. ‘They’ve got him locked away at The Farront Centre, and they’re not allowing him any visitors, not even his grandmother.’
‘I may be able to find out how he’s doing,’ said Rob. ‘As of yesterday, FinagleAlert has an informant on the centre’s staff. We didn’t have to recruit the guy, he contacted us a few days ago, saying he had serious misgivings about the treatment of some patients.’
‘Was Rick one of them?’
‘No details as yet, but I know he has access to all areas of the centre, and that must include the psychiatric unit. I’m meeting him for the first time tomorrow to work out the logistics.’
‘He’s a paid informant?’ said Tal’s mother, disapproving.
Amused, Rob said, ‘This guy’s not a whistleblower, putting his job on the line to go to the authorities. He’s got a family dependent on him, so he needs the extra money. Besides, he’ll be taking a big risk with his job. As long as the information he gives us is accurate, FinagleAlert is happy to pay him.’
‘What’s his name?’ Tal asked.
‘Sorry, can’t tell you that.’
‘But since I’m going to be at the centre for Dr Renfrew’s research, he could pass any information he had through me.’
‘Not an option,’ said his mother.
Rob agreed. ‘For security reasons, it’s essential to restrict the number of people involved. Also, you’ve got a personal interest in your friend’s welfare, which could cloud your judgement.’
‘Well, could you ask him to give a message to Rick from me?’
‘Sorry, no. It’d be asking him to take an unnecessary risk that could compromise the whole undertaking.’
‘Okay,’ said Tal, thinking that they’d freak if they had any idea of the risks he and the others were going to take. He got to his feet. ‘I’m going for a run before dinner.’
‘Don’t be too long.’ Half-serious, Grace added, ‘I’m warning you, I won’t be happy if you’re late.’
‘I’ll go by Allyx’s place and break the news I’m a disconnect.’
He didn’t mention it would be a lightning visit, because his real destination was George’s house.
Allyx was upset about Tal’s disconnection. ‘I hate this already! Can’t your mother do something?’
‘She’s tried. No go.’
‘But without your iZod, we can’t call each other, or text, or
send videos, or anything.’
‘It’ll only be temporary.’
‘How temporary?’
Tal lifted his shoulders in a shrug. ‘Don’t know.’
‘See you tomorrow night?’
Tal grimaced. ‘Sorry, I’m going with Mum to visit Victor.’
Frowning, Allyx said, ‘Do you have to? It’s not as if you know him all that well.’
‘I’m not making a social visit. Remember, he’s seen a detailed outline of Dr Renfrew’s research plans. I want to ask him what parts of the program are likely to be applied to Rick.’
With a sigh, Allyx said, ‘All right, so tomorrow’s off. What about Wednesday night?’
‘Should be okay.’
‘So pleased you can make it,’ she said with deep sarcasm. ‘Do you have a few minutes to spare for me right now, or do you have an urgent appointment?’
Tal didn’t want to say that he was on his way to give George a hacking assignment. Although it hadn’t been resolved whether Allyx and Mike should be told about using George’s skills, Tal had decided not to mention anything to Allyx. Because her father worked for Brownbolt, she’d be put in a difficult position if she learned confidential information about Farront and had to decide whether to pass it on to her dad or not.
Trying to make a joke of it, Tal said, ‘An urgent appointment? How did you guess? Mum said if I came home late for dinner tonight, I’d find myself homeless, and out on the street.’
‘Funny,’ said Allyx, not smiling.
He was almost out the front gate when Steven Grant called him back. ‘Tell Grace I need to see her rather urgently about something confidential, so please don’t mention this to anybody. I’ll fit in with any time that suits her, and I think it’s best if we meet at your place. I don’t want to use a comm to set this up – it’s not secure. If you tell Allyx a time when your mother’s available, she’ll pass it on to me.’
Jogging to George Everett’s house, Tal thought about Steven Grant’s odd request. He’d seemed nervous, stroking his beard and then smoothing his thick greying hair. Tal had been tempted to ask if it had anything to do with the rash of teenage disconnections. But if Mr Grant was this secretive about seeing Tal’s mother, there was no way he was going to reveal what it was about to Tal.
The front door of George’s place was wide open. On the way out was Becca, one of George’s sisters, who was in the year below Tal. In comparison to her brother, Becca was as up-to-date with the latest fashion styles as one could be.
‘Go right in,’ she said. ‘You know where his room is.’
Tal went down the hallway to George’s door and knocked.
‘Get lost!’
‘It’s Tal.’
‘Come in.’
Once he was seated on a ratty office chair, he said, ‘I’m a disconnect.’
‘Want me to get you a phantom? It’s not cheap.’
Tal shook his head. ‘Not yet. If I’m disconnected for too long, maybe.’
George’s chair creaked as he leaned back. ‘You’ve been disconnected and you’re in Dr Renfrew’s research group. Not a coincidence.’
Tal was impressed. ‘You’ve seen the connection?’
‘I’ve been very busy,’ said George, rubbing his hands together. ‘Frank, also. He has a special interest, since he’s disconnected too.’ With a chuckle, he added, ‘It’s a blast, as long as you don’t get caught.’
‘Rob Anderson was just telling Mum and me that FinagleAlert has been looking at how many young people have had their iZods disconnected.’
George nodded as Tal detailed the main points Rob had made. ‘I haven’t had time to go into it at that depth, but everything you’re telling me fits in with what I’ve got.’
‘And Joe Villabona? Anything on him?’
George puffed out his chest. ‘You’re looking at a guy who’s been reading employees’ files in Farront’s human resources department.’
‘Villabona’s?’
‘Target One’s file.’
‘Do we have to call Villabona, Renfrew and Unwin Targets One, Two and Three? Wouldn’t it be simpler to use their names? You did say this room is fully shielded.’
Obviously annoyed, George snapped, ‘It’s part of my professional protocol.’
‘Oh, in that case …’ said Tal, hiding a smile.
His good humour restored, George went on, ‘There was extra protection on Target One’s file, but it didn’t stop me.’
Missing his iZod already, Tal checked the time on an old wristwatch he’d dug out of a drawer full of bits and pieces. ‘George, my mother will kill me if I’m late for dinner, so give it to me fast.’
‘You got it. First, this target’s qualifications – which could be fake, but I don’t think they are: he’s a near-genius in the computing field. Second, he’s invented a brilliant cover story to explain the lack of detail in his work history.’
‘Whatever this cover story is, Audrey Farront fell for it completely and gave him an executive job.’
‘It is pretty good,’ George conceded. ‘The target claims to have spent years working for the government as an expert fighting cyber terrorism at the very top. And according to him, the department where he worked is so secret that very few people even know it exists.’
‘Why did he leave?’
‘The reason he gave is burnout. “The intolerable pressure” is how he put it in his job application, which he backed up with official-looking documents with areas blacked out because of national security concerns. Printed at the top of every page was a warning that revealing any information contained in the document was a federal crime.’
‘Did anyone in human resources check if they were genuine?’ Tal asked.
‘Audrey Farront did it herself. Any contact had to be through a protected government email address. The reply, also by secure email, confirmed everything Target One had said. No surprise that I found the address no longer exists. The whole thing is a scam, but a very convincing one.’
‘So he’s definitely a phony?
‘Yep, but he’s good. Get this, Target One says this top-secret department still contacts him for help when a particularly bad cyber attack occurs.’ George shook his head in grudging admiration. ‘Nice touch!’
‘Jeez,’ said Tal, checking the time, ‘I’ve really got to run. Before I go, have you got anything on Rick?’
‘Working on it. Call around on Wednesday night. Frank’ll be here. We should have something for you then.’
‘FinagleAlert’s negotiating with a potential informant on The Farront Centre staff who called in the last few days. I know whoever it is has direct contact with patients, but Rob wouldn’t give his name.’
‘Leave it with me,’ said George.
TWENTY-FOUR
For Rick, everything had become a fuzzy, depressing blur. Batteries of tests and endless questions were interspersed with intervals of restless sleep in his room, where the ceiling light never went out. When he complained about the light, Dr Renfrew merely said, ‘It stays on. Security reasons.’
Rick was aware his thoughts were becoming paranoid, but why not? He wouldn’t put anything past Dr Renfrew and Dr Unwin. For one thing, he half believed the reason he felt so sleepy and confused all the time was because the doctors were putting drugs in his food. Hunger, plus the novelty of having something to do, made him eat the contents of each tray anyway.
With no way to tell the time, or even if it were day or night, Rick tried to rely on the pattern of his meals to mark the passing of the days. The trays were shoved through a narrow slot at the bottom of the door. Breakfast indicated it was morning, lunch was always some sort of salad, and a hot dinner showed it was the evening. Then a disturbing thought surfaced. What if they were serving breakfast at night, just to confuse him?
When he was taken out of his room for further tests and questions, Rick was always accompanied by Luis or Felix, the only people he ever saw other than the two doctors. Neither orderly would let him know what time
it was. ‘Can’t tell you. Why? Just following instructions.’
When Rick had asked Luis about sensory deprivation, Luis had hesitated, then said he couldn’t discuss anything about Rick’s treatment.
‘That’s what they’re doing to me, isn’t it?’
‘Like I said, I can’t discuss your treatment.’
Looking back, Rick realised that Luis may have indirectly answered his question. By saying he couldn’t talk about Rick’s treatment, he’d implied that sensory deprivation was part of it.
It made sense: Rick’s world had shrunk to two rooms, a bedroom and bathroom. There was nothing to listen to, nothing to watch, nothing to do, and no one to interact with, except the doctors and the two orderlies.
What made it worse was that knowing all this was no help. Rick knew the isolation was getting to him. Sometimes he felt like screaming and beating at the door, but mainly he found himself struggling against a pervasive hopelessness that made him hardly care what happened to him.
Rick had used the flimsy plastic cutlery to eat the contents of his dinner tray – an almost tasteless stew and a doughy bread roll, plus an insipid custard dessert in a plastic bowl – and was drinking the last of his fruit juice, when he heard the snick of the door’s lock disengaging.
White-coated Dr Renfrew and Dr Unwin came in, both looking very grave.
‘No, don’t get up, Rick,’ said Renfrew. ‘I’m afraid we have some bad news for you.’
A horrible feeling of dread skewered Rick’s heart. ‘What is it?’ he heard himself say, as though from a long distance away.
Dr Unwin came over and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. His customary smile absent, Unwin said solemnly, ‘We’re asking you to be brave, Rick.’
Rick shrank away from his touch. ‘Brave about what?’
Dr Renfrew gave a heavy sigh. ‘It pains me to have to tell you this, Rick, but it’s your grandfather. I’m so sorry. He never regained consciousness. He died this afternoon. Your grandmother was by his side as he slipped gently away.’
Before he could think, Rick blurted out, ‘I know that isn’t true!’
Gotta B Page 18