by R E McLean
“So,” she said. “After we were so rudely interrupted.”
No one spoke.
“Let’s continue with the briefing, shall we?”
A couple of people muttered at the front; Alex couldn’t make out what they were saying.
Monique held out a hand and someone slapped a brown envelope into it. She peeled it open and looked through the contents, eventually laying them out on the table behind her. She jumped off it and looked between it and the assembled detectives. Someone at the front coughed.
“OK,” Monique half sighed, half yelled. Her voice sounded brittle, as if it would shatter at any moment. Either that or it would rain glass all over them.
“We’ve had a development. One that affects the investigation. Puts us back at square one, in a way.”
Monique held up a photograph, then another, and another. There were five. She pinned them to the board behind her.
Alex edged forward, following the crush in front of her, all moving toward the board to get a better look.
She gasped. It was Sean Wolf. Dead, with half his face blown off. She lifted her hand.
“I thought you’d have learned to keep your mouth shut by now, Alex,” said Monique.
“I really need to tell you what we saw in—”
Monique gave her warning look. Alex remembered that only three people in this room knew where she and Mike had been that morning.
Monique frowned and turned her head down to the desk. She lifted a plastic evidence bag containing a piece of paper.
“This is a suicide note,” she said. “It seems he couldn’t live without his ex-wife. Or so he says. It’s possible he couldn’t live with the guilt of killing her.”
Alex frowned. Three rows ahead, Mike turned and caught her eye.
32
McFlurry
Berkeley
27 March, 5:14pm
Rik was sitting in the front window of McDonalds, ploughing through a McFlurry. She skidded to a halt behind his seat.
”Hi,” she breathed. ”Miss me?”
He wiped his mouth. ”Where have you been?”
“They needed me for another day. Expert witness.”
“You and I know that’s not true. What’s really going on?”
“Hang on. I need a coffee.”
She went to the counter and brought back a large latte, thinking of the coffee shop in Silicon City.
Rik finished his dessert and wiped his mouth. “You’re going back to Scotland, aren’t you?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Your dad called.”
“He called the department?”
“Mm-hmm. He was trying your cellphone but couldn’t reach you.” He sighed. “When do you leave, Alex?”
“I’m not leaving. He’s coming here. To visit.” She lowered her voice. “Don’t tell my landlord.”
“What does your landlord have to do with it?”
“What did he say it was about?”
Another shrug. “Beats me. He just wants you to call.”
“I will.”
He stood up.
“You’re being weird, Alex. Just tell me what’s going on.”
“I told you.”
He shook his head.
“It won’t be for long.” She remembered the way Monique had looked at her earlier. “I’ll be back at LeConte soon.”
Rik didn’t look convinced. He stared at her for a moment then shook his head.
“See you around, Alex.”
She stared at him. Rik was a good friend, her only real friend here. But staying with him meant staying at Berkeley. Today’s trip to Silicon City had given her a glimpse of something so much better.
“Sorry, Rik. It’s not what you think.”
“Whatever. Here’s your research, anyway. I ran it overnight. No idea what it is. But it’s yours.”
He slapped a manila envelope onto the table between them. She stared at it, suddenly confused. Rik, her family, the MIU. Which came first?
“Thanks Rik. I owe you.”
“Whatever.”
He turned and left the restaurant without looking back.
33
Limes
Silicon City
27 March, 5:58pm
Claire opened her eyes. She put a hand to her chest; her heart rate was elevated.
She felt something cold on her hand and flinched. She batted it away and was rewarded with a growl.
She looked down.
“Oh, Leo. Sorry, gorgeous.”
She bent down to give the dog a cuddle, hoping he would forgive her. He was wearing a new collar, a bright blue one she’d ordered online. The old one, with its new inscription, was hidden in her bedside drawer. She had no idea what to make of it.
After a few moments he pulled away and headed for his bowl. She watched him, thinking over what she’d just done in the Hive.
It was a mistake, she knew. But she’d realized that despite everything, she was lonely. Not lonely enough to leave her apartment, or lonely enough to let the dog walker in. But lonely enough to make human contact in the virtual world of the Hive.
She looked in the mirror over the fireplace. Her cheeks were flushed and there was a sheen of sweat on her forehead.
She looked at Leo, considering telling him about her encounter. But saying it aloud made it real. Even to a dog.
Making a smoothie would calm her down. She headed back to the kitchen. Leo raised his head in greeting then went back to eating.
She placed a steadying hand on the counter. The pale marble was cool; just what she needed.
She fished in the fruit bowl and pulled out two limes. Then she opened the freezer and took out a bag of fruit. She opened a drawer to grab a knife without looking; she knew where everything was in this kitchen.
Her hand hit wood at the bottom of the drawer. She looked down, irritated.
She frowned. She’d put her favorite chef’s knife there earlier, after unloading the dishwasher. She was sure of it.
Annoyed with herself, she opened the dishwasher. It was empty.
“Where’s my knife, Leo?” she asked. He didn’t respond.
She closed the dishwasher door and searched through cupboards and drawers. Claire was an organized woman, who knew where everything was; she wouldn’t have put it in the wrong drawer. But then, she had been feeling a little odd lately.
She searched the kitchen twice. It wasn’t there.
She looked at Leo. “Have you hidden it, boy?”
He cocked his head and put up a paw. She gave it a shake. She loved Leo. Maybe she should pay him more attention, then she wouldn’t need to use the Hive for company.
Her heart rate was up again.
“Where is it, Leo?” she said. He barked once.
Could she have taken it into the living room, cut some limes for a drink last night maybe?
The living area was pristine as ever, the pale cream couch empty except for two perfectly arranged pillows. The coffee table held two books; a business tome and novel. Nothing more.
Then she spotted it. On the carpet in the hallway, lying there like an accusation. Could she have dropped it?
She hurried into the hallway and bent down. She picked up the knife as if it were on fire.
She examined it. She hadn’t brought it out here.
So how had it got there?
34
Darcy
Berkeley
27 March, 6:28pm
It felt good to close her front door and kick her shoes off. Schrödinger had even obliged her by choosing this as an alive evening. He meowed loudly as she filled his bowl.
“There you go Shrew. Good day?”
He said nothing, but she could hear him purring.
“Any odd quantum events with you?”
He looked up from his bowl and gave her what looked a lot like a suspicious stare.
“No. Just dying in your box, huh?”
She squatted on the floor and ruffled the fur b
etween his ears. The purring grew in intensity.
“Are you going to parallel universes when you die, Shrew?”
“Meow.”
She squinted. “As if you’d tell me.”
She needed a beer. She opened the fridge then groaned to find that all it contained was a half-drunk can of Pepsi and a slice of pizza that was starting to turn green.
She checked her phone; the 7-11 would still be open. Then she remembered her conversation with Rik, her promise to call her dad.
Half past six. It would be two-thirty am at home. It was worth a try.
She dialed his cellphone but hit voicemail.
She hesitated; her dad calling her at work didn’t feel like something she could respond to with a voicemail. She put the phone back in her pocket.
Maybe she could try Aunty Morag? But no, she was retired and wouldn’t welcome being woken in the wee hours.
She grabbed her jacket and threw it back on. She was about to open the door when someone knocked on it.
She flung it open. Had Rik come to make nice?
“Oh. Hello.” She felt herself turn the same Teletubby shade of purple that Monique had earlier. Her heart was thumping in her ears.
“Hey.”
“How did you know where I live?”
Sarita smiled. “I know a lot of things.”
“Right. Come in.”
Sarita peered past her. Alex turned to see Schrödinger on the kitchen table, his back arched.
“Second thoughts,” Alex said. “I’ll take you to Breselli’s.”
Breselli’s was one of the few bars round here whose clientele didn’t need fake ID. Alex found a corner table and ordered two beers.
The barman, Joe, gave her wink over Sarita’s shoulder. Alex frowned at him.
“So. What brings you here?” she asked, trying to ignore the looks Joe was giving her from the bar.
Sarita smiled again. “Just thought it would be good to make the acquaintance of our newest recruit.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t think I’ll be allowed back.”
“You’re wrong. That’s just Monique. She becomes, oh I don’t know, worked up, sometimes. Ignore it.”
“It felt like more than worked up to me.”
Joe arrived with the beers. He gave Sarita an especially wide smile. She smiled back, cocking her head. Alex felt her heart sink.
When Joe was out of earshot, Sarita leaned in. The table was round and dotted with beer rings. She did a good job of keeping her sleeves out of them.
“What’s with him? He’s not trying to hit on me?”
Alex froze. “I don’t think so.”
“Good. Not my type.”
Alex blushed again. Should she make a move on this woman, who seemed impossibly out of her league? Had Sarita maybe come to see her because the attraction was mutual? Or would it be the biggest professional faux pas since Bill Clinton said hell yes, let’s recruit some interns?
Sarita swigged her beer then wiped her mouth. Alex stared, shocked and relieved in equal measure. She wasn’t perfect. Good.
Sarita put her beer down and rested a hand on the table between them. The skin was smooth and she wore three rings; one on her middle finger and two on her ring finger. Each had a different stone.
“Monique’s secretly pleased with what you did today. She likes a bit of initiative. Enjoys ruffling the Hivers’ feathers a bit. And I had a word with her.”
Alex leaned back. Don’t flirt, she told herself. Your career depends on it. And maybe her half-assed plan to find her mom in Hive Earth.
“We’ll be sending you out again tomorrow.” Sarita sat back. “Berkeley can spare you for a few days, can’t they?”
Alex thought of the manila envelope Rik had given her. It was sitting on the kitchen table, next to Shrew. She still hadn’t had time to open it.
“Course they can.” She met Sarita’s gaze, keeping her face expressionless.
“Good. Glad that’s sorted. I need to have a chat with you, Alex.”
Alex felt her heart pick up pace. “OK.”
“Yeah. Debrief.”
“But we did all that with Monique.”
“Well, not quite. I didn’t get everything I needed.”
Sarita leaned over the table, slapping her hands together. She was wearing a yellow leather jacket; it rode up her arms as she reached out. Alex wondered if it was manmade or natural. If Sarita had ever jumped.
Alex sipped at her beer and waited. What would Sarita need to know about the clothes they had worn? Did she need to change the formula? Or maybe this was something to do with the bitbox.
Sarita glanced around the bar. Two guys were sitting at the table nearest them. One of them stared at her, licking his lips. She screwed up her nose and pulled her chair away.
“So,” said Sarita. “How was your second jump? Not too sick, I hope.”
“I kept it all in this time.”
“That’s good.”
“But I’m not going to be eating chowder again for a while. In fact, I’m planning to have cauliflower and bread every meal from now on.”
“Cauliflower and bread?”
“White food. Stuff I can keep down.”
“It probably won’t be so bad from now on. You’ll be fine.”
“I hope so.”
“Was it worth it, though? To see another version of San Francisco?”
Alex licked her lips. “Worth it like you wouldn’t imagine. You won’t believe what the place was like. Like something out of a movie.”
“How so?”
Alex frowned; surely Sarita would already know all this? But Alex wanted to talk about her day, and couldn’t exactly tell Rik. Or her dad.
“The oddest thing was how quiet it all was.”
“The Hive. Plugged in.”
“Yes. I get that—some kind of VR via that earpiece. God knows how it works, but it made some kind of sense. But the thing I couldn’t get my head round was the dance.”
“The dance?”
“Not a dance, more a shuffle. People were plugged in, silent, dead to the world as far as you could tell. And they were moving around, walking. Maybe they were moving around inside the Hive too. But every time they came near to an obstacle, they would avoid it perfectly. Even other people. I felt like Elizabeth Bennet in Pride and Prejudice, watching the ball, listening to that horrible Mr Darcy.”
“You didn’t like Darcy?”
Alex laughed. “Of course not. Arrogant jerk.”
“Even with the wet shirt?”
“Especially with the wet shirt. Not my type.” She blushed, hoping the words you’re more my type hadn’t appeared in big red letters on her forehead.
Sarita seemed oblivious. “I know what you mean.” She looked serious again. “So what else was different?”
“Different from what?”
Sarita looked at her for a moment. “From here.”
“Oh. Well.” She considered. “I had a coffee.”
Sarita laughed. “Was that wise?”
“What d’you mean, wise?”
“Think about it, Alex. It’s another universe. Your biology is different. How did you know you weren’t drinking poison?”
“Oh.”
Sarita laughed. It was like the sound of a chandelier in a force nine gale.
“I’m joking. It’s just coffee. Mike says it’s fine.”
Alex’s shoulder slumped. “You had me there.”
“How did that affect you?”
“The coffee?”
“Yeah. I’m not going to ask you about the bitbox, if that’s what you’re wondering. Not tonight.”
Alex felt herself relax. “Oh. Right. Well, it was actually pretty cool. Once I’d digested the sugar it felt like drinking three shots of espresso in quick succession. I’m surprised the place wasn’t full of people crawling on the ceiling.”
Sarita laughed. “Here in this world, probably. But there, we get stimulation from the Hive.”
“We?
”
Sarita’s face darkened. “They.”
“Have you been there? Do you go on missions?” Alex considered. “I didn’t see a Hive version of Sarita.”
“No. You wouldn’t have.”
“OK. So why didn’t you go?”
“I don’t jump.”
“No? You’d love it. You wouldn’t have to ask me all these questions.”
Sarita narrowed her eyes. “Tell me what else was different. What felt off.”
“The cars.”
“The Hackneys.”
“Yeah. No driver, seats that mold to your butt.”
“Seats that do what?”
“I sat down on what felt like this horrible hard white plastic, then suddenly it was the exact right shape for cradling my derriere.”
Alex returned Sarita’s smile. Her eyes were bright now. Materials science, thought Alex. This’ll be right up her alley. “Didn’t Mike tell you about this?”
“Mike sometimes misses out the details. Tell me about this substance.”
Alex told her everything she could remember. Sarita was all but rubbing her hands with glee. “That’s new,” she muttered.
“So you want to create those here?” Alex asked.
“You never know. What was security like?”
“Security?”
“In the MOO. On the streets.”
“I didn’t see any. None at all.”
“Interesting.”
“Is that normal?”
“Hmm?” Sarita was tapping something into her phone now, making notes maybe. “Oh yeah, completely normal.”
“And we saw Sean Wolf’s doppelganger.”
Sarita’s head jerked up. “You did what?”
“In the building opposite Claire’s. He looked just like him.”
“His doppelganger? You told Monique this?”
“Mike did, after the briefing.”
“It was definitely his doppelganger?”