Kymiera

by Steve Turnbull

  ‘In the place?’

  ‘Lurking around in the trees when I stopped McCormack. I don’t know how much she heard, but she left as soon as McCormack admitted the girls were alive.’

  ‘So she’s still after them too. Good friend to have.’

  Mitchell nodded.

  ‘But there’s no way she can handle Purity and Utopia on her own,’ said Yates.

  ‘She’s pretty tough.’

  Yates grinned. ‘And hard to kill.’

  Mitchell put down his empty cup. ‘She might be able to find them eventually. She might even be able to get into the place where they’re being held. I don’t see her being able to get out again alive. They’ll be waiting for her.’

  ‘Or you.’

  ‘They’re too arrogant to see me as a threat. I’m just a plod who follows orders.’

  ‘So what do you want me to do, boss?’

  ‘I told you. Take some leave. I suggested a similar strategy to Ria MacDonald’s senior. He was amenable.’

  ‘Really? Ria says they’re overworked.’

  ‘They are,’ said Mitchell. ‘But I said I’d owe him a favour.’

  ‘So you’re arranging a little getaway for me and my girl,’ said Yates. ‘That’s very kind.’

  ‘Get yourself lost, Harry. Just for a few days until this has blown over.’

  ‘And that’s an order?’

  ‘That’s an order.’

  Chapter 5

  Mercedes

  ‘Sit down, everyone,’ she said as the door closed with a gentle click behind her.

  ‘Room secure, Miss Smith,’ said Xec.

  ‘Off-the-record protocol, Xec.’

  The background buzz went silent and she looked round at the two remaining members of the board. They did not look happy and she did not blame them. She was almost surprised that Kingsley was still here, she knew she hadn’t ordered his removal and yet of all the members of the board he had been the one she least wanted to keep.

  Marketing was almost a redundant concept. They provided services to people who had no choice. They could not choose whether they should be tested or not; nor could they choose who to accept that testing from. In Manchester it was Utopia Genetics who ran everything related to DNA and it was her face that smiled reassuringly from the billboards. She did not need Kingsley Upton.

  But here he was.

  ‘What’s going on, Mercedes?’

  ‘What do you mean, Kingsley?’

  ‘Where is McCormack?’

  ‘He was taken into custody by the Purity for running an unapproved research operation.’

  ‘Jesus.’

  She had expected him to shout and bluster the way he usually did, but this was a changed man.

  ‘What about the rest of us?’ He looked over at Margaret. ‘Us two. Are you planning to get rid of us as well?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said. ‘What you don’t seem to realise, Kingsley, is that I have just saved your miserable life.’

  She looked at Margaret. She had a temper when she let it out, but mostly she had it under control and had never had an outburst in one of these meetings. She tended to reserve it for her underlings.

  ‘What do you think, Margaret?’

  ‘I’m trying not to,’ she said. ‘I thought at the very least I could trust you.’

  ‘Neither of you seem to be getting the point. If I hadn’t made an agreement with the Purity over this issue we would all be on our way to quarantine, or worse. Is that what you want, because I can have Xec set up a call with Special Agent Graham and I can explain to him how I’ve discovered that you two were also in on it with McCormack.’

  Margaret’s expression was one of disgust. ‘Is that it? Is this what you’ve come to? Turning on your friends to save your own hide?’

  ‘In this instance, saving my hide also saves yours,’ said Mercedes carefully. She had not expected this level of animosity. They would be upset, of course, but why didn’t they understand? ‘I can make that call any time I like.’

  ‘We could also make that call,’ said Kingsley.

  Mercedes laughed. ‘You think he’d believe you?’

  Kingsley’s face went red with suppressed anger.

  ‘Look, we’re all in the same boat here. The Purity need Utopia to maintain control and provide information in this region. They don’t want to see any infighting. And it’s my face the people identify with the company. I’m the one they trust. I have protected our business by giving them McCormack, and for that we get to keep our research and our assets. We just need to share what we know with them.’

  Margaret shook her head. ‘You can’t. If you tell the Purity there are non-S.I.D freaks running around, created by a rogue geneticist in Manchester, they’ll tear the city apart. Every child will be suspect. They’ll destroy everything.’

  ‘I can assure you I have no intention of letting them know what we know. Even McCormack’s trusted researchers didn’t know the real truth. And they failed to discover anything.’

  Mercedes frowned. They failed to get to the bottom of Newman’s work. All that money and all that effort.

  ‘All we have to do is imply that these kids are very early infectees who did not manifest in the same way as everyone else. A strain of S.I.D that failed to take hold. That will satisfy the Purity because it keeps everything simple. It’s still S.I.D and they’re still killing freaks—and it doesn’t mean every child in Manchester is affected. We simply continue to monitor just as we always have done.’

  Kingsley seemed to have relaxed a little. ‘You really think they’ll buy that?’

  ‘You’re the marketing expert, Kingsley. Perhaps you can come up with something more convincing?’

  ‘I’ll think about it.’

  ‘Good.’

  Margaret shifted in her chair. ‘What do you want me to do, Mercedes?’

  ‘Just keep everything running.’

  ‘These new floors you’re opening up?’

  ‘We needed somewhere to put everything temporarily. We’ll probably have to turn the assets over to the Purity, but I want to get as much information out of them before we do that.’

  ‘What are we going to do without McCormack?’

  ‘To be honest, Margaret, I had been considering replacing him even before all this happened. His team has made very little progress; all they’ve managed is a more accurate way of identifying the injected DNA.’

  Kingsley looked up. ‘That could be useful for S.I.D. If we knew what people were infected with perhaps we could find some way of dealing with it?’

  ‘I’ll pass your thoughts on,’ said Mercedes. ‘When we’ve found a replacement.’

  The room went quiet. She missed McCormack; she had liked his accent even if it was exaggerated. And Paul had always provided a solid and balanced alternative view. When all was said and done, Kingsley wasn’t very bright and Margaret, for all her suppressed anger, simply did as she was told.

  ‘What about the Purity representative?’ asked Kingsley.

  ‘We’ll get one, of course,’ said Mercedes. ‘But they won’t be part of this committee for obvious reasons, at least not until we have been able to see where their loyalties lie.’

  She stood up. ‘I think that’s all for now. I have to deal with Special Agent Graham for the time being and I will keep you up-to-date on anything relevant.’

  The walk back to her room seemed shorter than usual. Everything seemed to be working out.

  At least there was no Chloe Dark to mess things up anymore.

  Chapter 6

  Mitchell

  He had had a shave, slept for a couple of hours and put on a clean suit. The drive in had been slow and relaxed. It seemed Lament hadn’t pulled any strings to get there faster.

  Everyone knew there were multiple wireheads running different aspects of the city. For people who never came into close contact with them they were almost mythological. Like animistic gods that lived in the rocks, the river, or the storm. Each wir
ehead with its own domain.

  But for someone like Mitchell, who dealt with one on a daily basis, it made him wonder. He had no idea where they got the bodies from to run the wirehead systems. And it seemed as if there was some sort of wirehead economy, or even ecology, that ran out of sight of humans. It was hard to think of the wireheads as human, even though essentially that’s what they were. And as a policeman he knew what people could be like.

  It had been an impulse to take the control away from computer systems that could fail and not be rebooted. The logic was flawed. Everyone knew that—everyone who understood what a wirehead was knew the system was just as flawed as before. There were stories of wireheads going mad in other cities. Or just dying unexpectedly. And it took a while to bring a new one online.

  But now the human population was as dependent on the wirehead systems as the pre-plague society had been on the computer systems that had failed when their systems operators had died, or simply disappeared.

  Lament had as good as admitted he gave and received favours from other wireheads. Which meant the entire law enforcement system was at the whim of someone who had been wired up, and might go mad or die. Or even just become disillusioned with the way things were. Not only did Lament have control of all the records—though the management company insisted they were backed up—but he had the experience and that was not something that could be backed up.

  The car arrived at the police HQ without Lament going mad or, apparently, any deals being made with the traffic control wirehead to get them where they wanted to go more quickly.

  The summons from Superintendent Dix had come early, but Mitchell had expected it. He was there to report on the state of the case, now apparently closed, and what was to be done next, if anything.

  It was going to be a difficult meeting. Dix may have been a good copper once, but he was a politician now. Even if they did believe in the same things, their priorities differed.

  Mitchell opened the door to Dix’s office when instructed and went through. It was the same as it had ever been. Dix was wearing the same suit, and the same blue tie. Or if it wasn’t the same one it was an identical twin.

  ‘Sit down, David.’

  Mitchell sat in the hard-backed chair opposite his boss. Dix continued to read what might have been a report on the events of the previous evening. Not Mitchell’s, since he had not had time write one. Dix sighed and leaned back in his chair as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Perhaps in some ways it was, but he had the disadvantage of being unable to act on that responsibility. He was forced to stay in his office. Mitchell had never accepted promotion because he did not want to be trapped that way.

  ‘So, nobody wins.’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘Utopia Genetics loses its position of superiority—we know them for what they are. The Purity fails to rescue the kidnapped girls in any meaningful way. They certainly can’t use this case to take control, far too messed up, and with their Utopia representative committing suicide.’ He shook his head as if agreeing with himself. ‘No, nobody wins.’

  He didn’t have to mention that they too had failed. Not for want of trying, under ridiculous constraints.

  ‘What now, sir?’

  ‘I want your opinion, David, off the record.’

  Mitchell stretched his back and sat up. ‘Sir?’

  ‘Oh come on, David. I don’t have to read your report to know that you will be leaving out much of what happened.’ He lifted up the report he had been looking at and then dropped it again. ‘This stuff is useless. Everyone whitewashes, and tries to make it look as if they did their very best and that it was everyone else who failed to hold up their end.’ He leaned forward. ‘I know you won’t do that. I need to know the truth. How can I deal with Purity and Utopia if I don’t know what’s really going on?’ He sat back again. ‘Even I can read between the lines. Each one of your clues turned into a dead-end, literally. And that includes—what’s his name—Paul Banner?’

  ‘It wasn’t suicide.’

  ‘Of course not. That would be far too convenient.’

  ‘I’m just a policeman, sir.’

  ‘As I am, David, as I am.’ The man seemed to deflate as if his own words punctured his bravado and posturing. Perhaps he just wanted to be that again.

  Mitchell decided now was the time. ‘I do not consider the case to be closed.’

  Dix looked at him but did not respond.

  ‘The ones who kidnapped the girls are still holding them. The law is still being broken. And if Purity no longer wishes to supervise the case for their purposes, then we are free to act.’

  ‘And that’s what you want to do?’

  ‘We have forced their hand. They will have moved the girls to a temporary location. It will be easier to find them.’

  The flame of the policeman was extinguished in Dix as he contemplated the consequences of continuing to pursue the case.

  ‘I can’t allow it, David,’ he said. ‘If you’re right, then Purity has changed sides. And that is not a game I am willing to play. And not a game I am willing to risk my best officers on. You can do more good going back to the way things were.’

  ‘Allowing the law we are sworn to uphold to be flouted by anyone with sufficient power?’

  ‘That’s the way it’s always been, David. We have to choose the fights we can win.’

  ‘Is that your final decision on the matter, sir?’

  ‘It is.’

  Dix turned his attention to his desk. He moved the report to the side and read a different one. His lack of subtlety was almost amusing.

  Mitchell climbed to his feet and headed for the door. He was very tired.

  ‘David?’

  ‘Yes, sir?’

  ‘Take a week off.’

  ‘I would rather not.’

  ‘It’s an order.’

  ‘Sir.’

  Mitchell closed the door to the office behind him. And sighed. He was going to lose his job. It did not require any kind of decision to choose to go after the girls that were still being held because he had never had any doubt about what he intended to do.

  The meeting had all been for Dix’s sake. Mitchell had not expected him to condone any further investigation, but he had to have been given the chance. It also meant he could state, in all honesty, that any action Mitchell took was nothing to do with him.

  Still, it would have been nice if Dix could have had the strength to become the man he wanted to be. Had been.

  But Mitchell had been ordered to take leave and there was a form to be filled out for that.

  Some things never changed.

  Chapter 7

  Mercedes

  It was broad daylight and a weak sun was trying to press its way through the grey-white of the clouds. But still she could feel the prisoners below her, in exactly the place she did not want them to be. Mercedes often went about her apartment in bare feet, but not now. She wore heavy boots as if there were some way of protecting herself from their presence.

  She had told herself it was immature and childish a dozen times. That didn’t work, and she was not sure but the amount of gin she had consumed seemed to make things worse. She felt as if they were crawling through the walls. Once in a while she would turn suddenly expecting to see their distorted limbs reaching for her.

  ‘How long before we can prepare somewhere else, Xec?’ she said very suddenly and so loudly she surprised herself. She got control. ‘The assets. How soon before we can move them to a more secure facility?’

  ‘I have a building identified in Ramsbottom.’

  ‘How long?’

  ‘It will take at least a week to prepare the cells. The girls—’

  ‘Assets!’

  ‘The assets demonstrated a much higher level of development than had been noted in the tests.’

  ‘I don’t care about that.’ She realised she was almost screaming again. She took a breath. ‘I am very uncomfortable with them so close.’

  ‘Would yo
u prefer to stay somewhere else?’

  ‘This is my home, Xec, I won’t be pushed out by freaks.’

  ‘I just thought—’

  ‘Don’t.’

  ‘It’s what I’m paid for.’

  Mercedes sat down heavily. I’m drunk. ‘I’m sorry, Xec. You’re right, but I would not feel comfortable elsewhere and being here is more secure than anywhere else. I need to be safe.’

  ‘You confronted Chloe Dark at the clinic.’

  That was true. And now she was dead. The only good freak is a dead freak. Even Newman’s freaks.

  She was losing it again. She sat forward and held the glass firmly in her paws. Hands. The rational side of her knew what the problem was. It had been the witch’s cat that scared her. She had been at her friend’s house, when she was young, before all the trouble, and they brought the cat to show her—and it had too many toes.

  The terror had numbed her. Her friend dumped the animal on her lap. She had tried to get away but it had clung on, digging its too-many claws into her through her skirt.

  She had run, almost been hit by a car on the street when she ran out, and hidden in the woods. They found her up a tree because she was scared of the creepy crawlies in the ground. And people had laughed.

  ‘They won’t fucking laugh at me!’ she said and threw her glass at the wall where it smashed satisfyingly. ‘I’m not scared.’

  ‘Mercedes?’

  ‘I want to see them.’

  Face your fears. That’s what they always say. Well, she was in control of her fears.

  ‘The assets?’

  ‘Of course the fucking assets, you stupid wirehead. You’ve got them drugged, right?’

  ‘They have been sedated.’

  ‘Well, let me see them. So I know they can’t come crawling out of the walls and stick their claws into me.’

  ‘Of course, Mercedes. Do you want some coffee first?’

  ‘Are you saying I’m inebriated?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, screw you! If I can say inebriated, I can look at some drugged freaks. Right?’

  ‘If that’s what you want.’

  ‘I’m the boss.’

  ‘Yes.’

  It took half an hour, and a strong coffee, before she was in the lift heading down. The freaks were being housed ten levels down. She couldn’t really complain they were close. And it would take them a lot of work to get up through the walls that far. She shook her head, and then regretted it. She needed to get a grip. They weren’t coming through the walls. This was not some stupid horror movie. She didn’t even watch horror movies. Or read stories like that.