Similar groups opposed to psychiatry and clinical psychology, such as Psycho-trist Anonymous, provided even more ammunition to be used against the doctors, including details of Unwin’s drink-driving arrests, complete with unflattering mug shots, and the claim that many of Renfrew’s books and articles contained plagiarised material. Popular blogs repeated and embellished these allegations.
Within two days the weight of the negative publicity forced Renfrew and Unwin to respond with vehement denials of wrongdoing, which generated even more responses, both for and against.
The spotlight now fell on Audrey Farront. The whole topic of deliberate disconnections was opened up and anecdotal stories of the horrors of being a disconnect began to circulate.
Barry and Ruth, the most famous of the disconnects, signed contracts with an international pharmaceutical company to appear in advertisements launching a new anti-depressant drug for teenagers.
Tal was impatient to nail Joe Villabona, but Frank pointed out that to the general public he was a shadowy figure, not nearly as interesting as doctors abusing patients or huge companies manipulating their customers. Frank believed the best strategy was to play up Villabona’s links to both Renfrew and Unwin – guilt by association. The next step was to emphasise his role as a man of mystery, who possibly was a master criminal.
The only clear head shots of Joe Villabona had been taken by Uncle Ian at the barbecue. When Tal begged him not to tell anyone that he’d provided the images of Villabona, Uncle Ian was puzzled but agreeable. ‘Not even Wendy, eh?’ he chuckled. ‘Good to keep women a bit in the dark, you’ll find.’
Uncle Ian’s pictures of Joe Villabona were in extreme close-up and extraordinarily clear. With a pulsating red arrow stabbing at his image, and the words, MYSTERY MAN … MASTER CRIMINAL? above his head, Villabona’s face began to pop up all over the internet.
During this hectic time, Tal hardly saw his mother, as Audrey had everyone at Farront working long hours to combat the barrage of attacks on the company. One morning she did waylay him and asked if he were involved in any way.
‘Mum,’ he said with a laugh, ‘I wish. This is cyber master stuff. Way out of my league.’
Rob Anderson was harder to handle. ‘All right, Tal, I’m sure you’ve got something to do with it. It’s no coincidence the targets are Renfrew, Unwin and Villabona. And you know at least one hacker skilled enough to break into FinagleAlert’s system. What’s the story?’
‘There’s nothing I can tell you.’
‘A nice evasive answer.’
‘It’s the only one you’ll get from me.’
Rob gave him a long, hard look. ‘Remember the law of unintended consequences. Innocent people are going to suffer.’
Tal remembered Jennie’s comment about people being hurt. He kept his face neutral. ‘I guess you’d call it collateral damage,’ he said lightly, but the thought continued to nag at him.
Tal and the others marvelled as the cyber storm George and his team had created became an overwhelming tsunami.
‘This is way out of our control now,’ George said with satisfaction. ‘It’s got a life of its own.’
On behalf of Audrey and the two doctors, Farront’s law firm sent out thousands of ‘cease and desist’ letters promising catastrophic legal action. These attempts to intimidate or discredit their critics were largely unsuccessful, not only because of the virtual anonymity the internet provided and the sheer volume of attacks, but also because it was extremely difficult – often impossible – to establish in each case who was legally responsible. Was it an individual? The company hosting a site? The internet provider?
The storm did not abate. Social news aggregators featuring the most popular web stories had Farront and the doctors appearing on the most-viewed listing day after day. Tal noticed with grim pleasure that Joe Villabona had joined them under the designation, ‘Farront’s Mystery Man’. Speculation about his real identity was rife and several online gambling sites were taking wagers on who he’d turn out to be.
By the end of the second week, prodded by this intense public interest, professional medical associations and government bodies announced official inquiries into the allegations. An audit of Farront International was proposed. High profile politicians, sensing that these were potent issues in the electorate, climbed on the bandwagon too, promising all would be revealed, no matter what the cost.
‘Who would have thought,’ said Petra, ‘we’d be quite this successful in such a short time?’
George wore a Cheshire cat grin. ‘As a matter of fact, I did.’
TWENTY-NINE
The notoriety of The Farront Centre co-directors ensured a constant media presence outside the building, with banks of hovering air cams and bunches of reporters waiting for a glimpse of one of the major players in the drama. Clear Minds Forever’s daily demonstrations and outrageous street theatre provided excellent back-up news images, guaranteeing a regular police presence that often led to arrests. And there was always footage to be gained from interviewing members of staff, or patients and their families as they came and went.
Because they’d been rated as gold subjects, Tal and Frank now attended sessions every weekday. At first they and the other research subjects were accosted by reporters and followed by air cams, but as the days went on and nobody in the group said or did anything newsworthy, the media lost interest.
On Thursday of the second week, only two security guards met the group in the foyer.
‘Where’s Mitch?’ Tal asked Cilla. ‘Is he sick?’
Cilla’s mouth tightened. ‘He was fired for selling his story to the jackals outside.’
When Cilla smothered a yawn, Tal said sympathetically, ‘You look tired.’
‘We’re shorthanded, so I’m working double shifts.’
‘Brad too?’
Cilla glanced over at Brad, who was leaning against the ID scanner and chatting with Frank and Scot, the guard operating the machine.
With uncharacteristic openness, Cilla said, ‘Brad hasn’t the energy for one shift, but he likes the overtime money. The roster has him down for two shifts, though he’s a no-show half the time.’
Tal thought Brad’s laziness could be useful. He was wondering whether to comment on it, or let the subject drop, when Cilla said contritely, ‘Please forget I said that. We’re all under a lot of pressure, but that’s no excuse. It was quite unprofessional of me.’
The group was escorted to a lab and told to wait for Dr Renfrew. He was rarely involved in the day-to-day testing, but this afternoon he was overseeing an experiment to establish the pattern of brainwaves that would efficiently carry out computer commands by thought alone.
Renfrew was running late, so there was plenty of time to talk. Frank leaned over from an adjacent cubicle to ask Tal, ‘Did you notice the staff seems to have shrunk? There’s not as many people around.’
‘Cilla told me security’s shorthanded, so they’re tired from working extra shifts.’
‘Security’s not the only one,’ said Frank. ‘The medical section’s short-staffed too. Scot, the guy on the scanner, was saying reporters have started following staff members home and harassing their families with a tiny air cam that’s so new even I haven’t seen one. It’s called the Snooper because it’s small enough to sneak into houses and hide, so it can record private conversations.’
‘Jeez,’ said Tal, ‘everyone will need a personal nullifier soon.’
‘And Scot says it’s not just the media. People are turning up and behaving like tourists visiting celebrities’ homes. They climb over fences, knock on doors and peer through windows.’
‘Totally weird.’
‘Some of the staff are so fed up they’ve resigned,’ said Frank. ‘And others have been caught selling stuff to the media and been given the bullet.’
We started all this with our cyber war, thought Tal, but we never meant things like this to happen to ordinary people.
He shoved this uncomfortable idea out of
his mind. ‘Tomorrow’s looking good,’ he said, knowing Frank would realise Tal was referring to Rick’s rescue.
‘This might help. Brad says rumour’s going around that Renfrew is heading for a nervous breakdown.’
As Frank was speaking, Dr Renfrew came into the lab. He did look like a man under tremendous pressure. His face was grey, his eyes heavy, his body language defeated. He’d obviously lost weight, as his clothes hung loosely on him. For a moment Tal felt a pang of sympathy, until he thought of Rick locked away in a cramped cell.
‘We need a final meeting,’ he said. ‘Tonight at my place? Mum won’t be there. She’s working late, as usual.’
‘Okay. I’ll text everyone the code word.’
‘Thanks. I’d do it if I could,’ Tal said, angry that such a simple thing as texting was closed to him.
Being a disconnect was worse than he’d imagined. When it had first happened to Rick, Tal had privately thought his friend had overreacted, and that Petra had exaggerated her despair when her mother had confiscated her iZod. Now he’d experienced the isolation that came with being a disconnect himself, Tal wasn’t so judgemental.
He realised he’d taken for granted the way his comm put him in touch with everybody he wished to contact, no matter what time it was or where they were. The device he’d held in his hand could bring the whole world to him, so he could share events as they were happening. He could surf the internet, research the most obscure subjects, laugh at the funniest videos …
Tal was disconcerted by the sense of loss. Giving himself a mental pep talk helped, but he still couldn’t escape the feeling that everything important was passing him by. Allyx hadn’t been wrong when she’d said he’d changed. Usually an optimist, now he had to fight off negative thoughts. Things he previously found mildly irritating now had the power to make him furious.
He said to Frank, ‘It’s driving me mad being a disconnect. How much does a phantom cost?’
‘Phantoms? They’re illegal,’ snapped Stella from behind them. She usually had two assistants helping her set up experiments, but today she was the only person fitting subjects with wired caps designed to amplify brainwaves.
‘Illegal,’ she repeated. ‘Do you know someone who has a phantom communicator? It should be reported to the authorities.’
Frank jerked his head to toss a strand of lank hair out of his eyes. With a friendly grin, he said, ‘Hey, Stella, you’re working way too hard. It isn’t fair. Someone should be helping you.’
‘Humph,’ she grunted, but she was obviously pleased.
She began fitting Tal with a wired cap. As she tested the circuits, he said, ‘Is there a problem with Dr Renfrew? He looks ill.’
Stella was indignant. ‘Poor man, who wouldn’t be, what with all the scurrilous attacks on his reputation? And if that isn’t enough, Dr Unwin starts throwing his weight around.’ With a snort, she added, ‘Anyone would think Howard Unwin was the centre’s senior director.’
‘Stella?’ Dr Renfrew called out, his tone fretful. ‘I was hoping to start this experiment today.’
‘Coming.’ Stella dropped her voice to say, ‘You boys are not to repeat what I said about Dr Unwin. He doesn’t need any more trouble.’
‘Oh, I think he does,’ said Tal, once she was out of earshot.
Tal, Frank, Jennie and David were ready to start the meeting, but Petra was late. ‘What excuse did you use to get here tonight?’ David asked, when she finally arrived.
‘I told Mum I’d be at a rehearsal to prepare for a debate we’re having with another school.’
‘Good luck with that!’
‘It’ll work. She and Dad are fully occupied at the moment. They’ve just heard a rival chain of garden suppliers plans to open a store in our area. Mum won’t have time to –’
‘Tomorrow’s the day,’ said Tal, interrupting, ‘and it can’t come too soon. I’ve got some news about Rick that isn’t good. When I saw Luis earlier he said that because of the sensory deprivation and the drugs he’s been given, Rick’s starting to hallucinate. He told Luis he keeps seeing people out of the corner of his eye, but when he looks around his cell, there’s no one there.’
There was silence for a moment, then David swore, and Jennie said, ‘Can we really trust Luis to help us?’
‘I’m sure we can,’ said Tal. ‘Luis is upset because Rick’s getting worse each day. He says there could be permanent damage to Rick’s mind if he’s kept isolated in those conditions much longer.’
‘Tomorrow’s Friday,’ said Frank. ‘The media like to close the week with a big story. That’s good for us.’
‘I’ve made a checklist,’ said Tal. ‘I’ll start with Frank and me. Luis will get us up to the fourth floor and through the security door into the psychiatric area. At the moment Rick’s the only patient in the ward. He’s watched by a surveillance system that’s supposed to be checked regularly, but Luis says they’re low on staff. As a back-up, the system’s monitored twenty-four/seven by a computer programmed to detect unusual patterns of movement or sound.’
He glanced over at Frank, who raised a can of spray paint. ‘Armed and ready to fire.’
‘Will that work?’ said Jennie doubtfully.
‘The computer will record it as a malfunction,’ said Frank. ‘Trust me, I’m a geek.’
Tal went back to his handwritten list. ‘Dr Stein?’
‘He’s cool,’ said David. ‘Just waiting for the word.’
‘Jennie? Clear Minds?’
‘I’ve met with them twice. Their leader, Hugo Z – the hairy guy with the big beard – says they’re really keen to help. He joked that they’ll use any excuse for a riot.’
‘Clothes for Rick?’
‘Jeans and a T-shirt,’ said Petra. ‘And thongs. He can slip them on quickly.’
‘ID?’
‘I used my ID as a template and made one for him,’ said Frank. ‘The Centre doesn’t have the latest scanner system, so it should work without any trouble.’
‘How about George?’
‘He’s all set to spread the story that something sensational will be happening at the centre tomorrow afternoon,’ said Frank.
Tal consulted his list. ‘Last item – exit strategy.’
‘Under control as long as David doesn’t blow it,’ said Petra.
‘Oh, please! Me blow it?’
‘Stop it, you two,’ said Jennie. ‘This is serious. Tomorrow all of us could be arrested, and end up in a cell like the one Rick’s in now.’
THIRTY
Tal and Frank arrived a little early for their Friday session at The Farront Centre so they could chat with the media. Tal noticed that the number of spectators was larger than usual and that the ranks of the Clear Minds Forever protesters had swelled.
‘The word is, a big story’s breaking today,’ said one reporter in the media crowd that had gathered around Tal and Frank. ‘What do you kids know about it?’
Frank said, ‘We’ve heard all these rumours inside the centre about the doctors blaming each other for what’s happened.’
Tal added helpfully, ‘People are saying Dr Renfrew and Dr Unwin are at each other’s throats.’
A flurry of questions followed. Tal put up his hand. ‘The only thing we know for sure is that one of the doctors will be coming out here to make an important announcement some time this afternoon.’
When Tal and Frank entered the building, Cilla, who’d had an excellent view of the media through the glass wall of the foyer, said to them, ‘And what was that all about?’
Tal shrugged. ‘The usual. They’re after a sensational story.’
‘Vultures,’ said Cilla, glaring at them through the glass.
‘You said they were jackals last time,’ said Tal, grinning. Cilla didn’t smile.
When everyone had arrived and Scot had scanned their IDs, Cilla and Brad escorted the group to the lifts.
‘Aren’t you hot in that?’ Brad asked Frank, who was wearing a loose black woollen jumper and overs
ized black tracksuit pants.
‘I’m feeling awfully cold. Think it’s the flu.’ He backed this up with a hacking cough.
Brad rapidly stepped away. ‘Don’t give it to me! I’ve got a big weekend coming up.’
Dr Renfrew was again administering the thought command experiment. Subjects who had scored particularly well in the previous day’s tests were being asked one by one to control a cursor on a screen while being distracted by a random sequence of loud noises delivered through earphones, blasts of hot air to the face and eyes, and electric shocks to the fingers.
Tal had had so-so results the day before and was spared the ordeal. But Frank had scored high – ‘My superior mind,’ he’d chortled – so Renfrew called for him first.
While Stella was preparing Frank for the experiment, Dr Renfrew said, ‘Before someone raises the issue, let me assure you that the electric shocks, delivered through the finger clips you see Stella attaching, may sting a little but are entirely harmless.’
When Frank’s turn was over he came back to Tal shaking his fingers. ‘Those electric shocks really hurt. The guy’s a sadist.’
Tal had continued wearing the old watch he’d found in the bits-and-pieces drawer at home. He kept anxiously checking his wrist, until at last it was time. ‘Now,’ he said to Frank.
Tad excused himself to go to the restroom. While he waited for Frank to follow and Luis to turn up, Tal looked himself over in the mirror. His sandy hair was too long, but he’d had no opportunity to get it cut. Nor had he kept up his training regimen, so he wasn’t as fit as usual.
‘This cyber-warring takes up a lot of time,’ he told his reflection.
‘Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness,’ said Frank, coming in.
Luis was right behind him. ‘Everything’s all clear at the moment. You ready?’
‘Ready as we’ll ever be.’
Heart racing, Tal walked quickly with Frank and Luis towards the lifts. On the floor above them, Rick was alone in his cell, with no idea that at this moment his rescue was underway. Perhaps it was good that Rick didn’t have his hopes up, because there were so many things that could go wrong. Maybe Dr Unwin had suddenly decided to pay a call on his captive patient, or Cilla had swapped guard duty with Brad, or …
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