The Mandel Files, Volume 1

by Peter F. Hamilton

  ‘She went with him,’ Julia said defiantly. ‘It was her choice.’

  ‘Of course it was, but you engineered it. You and your oh-so-logical nodes, meticulously sketching out all the conceivable scenarios the players could be combined in. You’ve got Kendric, rich, handsome, an expert in seduction, kinky wife who doesn’t object to him playing the field. Katerina, in your eyes naïve, also sex-mad and your close friend, who just happens to have in tow a very desirable stud who you’ve had your eye on for some time. And finally the poor old stud himself, Adrian, who Katerina had almost tired of anyway.

  ‘You invited Katerina and Adrian to Horace Jepson’s party, a real fiesta rave atmosphere complete with the world’s greatest rock star. Katerina could no more refuse that than a bee can ignore pollen. And you chose it because that party was the perfect melting pot. Kendric walks in, sees you, the lonely little rich girl with probably her only real friend in the world, who by lucky chance is a real stunner and just as randy as he is. Well, he jumps at it, doesn’t he? And he succeeds easily, because he’s got the same sex appeal as Adrian, loaded with a suavity Adrian couldn’t begin to match, and filthy rich with it. Katerina simply leaps at him.

  ‘Kendric thinks he’s scored a double bonus, depriving you of a friend and confidante, and at your age friends like that are terrifically important, plus he gets himself and Hermione a nice chunk of fresh meat to fun around with. You, in the mean time, get rid of Katerina, in whose company any girl will look like one of Cinderella’s sisters, and get to console a devastated Adrian, who gratefully repays you with the only currency he’s got.’

  There was a long moment of excruciating silence.

  ‘Kats did, you know.’ Julia was sitting perfectly still, gazing unseeingly straight down the drive. ‘School, parties, clubs; nobody even knew I existed. Not with her there. Her bust, her legs, God, even her voice is total audio-sex.’ She sniffed, blinking furiously, neck still rigid. ‘Do you know why I grew my hair so long? Do you? Because boys like a girl with long hair. Somebody told me that when I was eleven, and I’ve never had it cut since. I thought it would give me a chance, because there’s nothing else to attract them. But of course her hair’s long too, and shiny blonde.’ Julia turned to look straight at him, unrepentant, hot determination shining bright in her mind. ‘All I’ve got is my brains. And if brains is the only way I can grab hold of a boy, then by God that’s how I’ll grab one. And there’s nobody, not you, not Grandpa, nobody, who is going to tell me different!’

  Greg could see how much pain and loneliness was bottled up behind those stubborn eyes. That was something about her he’d misunderstood, assuming it was brattish cattiness which had provided the motivation behind her conniving. The spoilt rich kid who didn’t get the treat she wanted, planning silent revenge on those who’d denied her.

  ‘Oh, Julia, Julia, what are we going to do with you? If you’d sat down and tried to come up with a more harmful own goal you couldn’t have found anything worse than giving Katerina to Kendric.’

  ‘I realize that now,’ she said miserably. ‘But how was I to know anyone walking round Wilholm could work out what Grandpa intended, or that Kats would be so willing to tell Kendric.’

  He winced inwardly. ‘She doesn’t have a lot of choice.’

  ‘There’s something you didn’t mention, isn’t there? About Kats. I never expected her to stay with Kendric for more than a day or two; not with Hermione insisting on her share. My God, you just can’t get any more hetero than Kats. That’s why I never felt any remorse, you see. As if one more man would make any difference to her. She said she had her first boy at thirteen. Thirteen! I just wanted their fling to last long enough to disillusion Adrian. But sticking it out like this is way out of character for Kats.’

  The sprinklers began to die down outside the Duo, leaving the whole front garden glistening under a glacé patina. Tall chrysanthemum stems bowed under the weight of the crystalline droplets which mottled their big bulbous flowers.

  ‘Have you ever heard of something called phyltre?’ Greg asked.

  She came as near to embarrassment as he’d ever seen her. ‘I remember someone mentioning the name once. Some sort of drug?’ she said distantly.

  ‘It’s not quite a drug. Phyltre is a symbiotic bacterium which lives in the blood stream, similar biotechnology principle as the gland. Strictly speaking it’s a physiologically benign parasite. The most expensive narcotic ever created, a logical extrapolation from the old Ecstasy drug. It boosts orgasmic pleasure tenfold, a genuine designer high.’

  ‘Oh.’ Julia was studying her nails with minute attention.

  ‘Pavlov would understand what Kendric has done to her. It’s the nastiest form of conditioning I’ve ever come across. If, and only if, she does exactly what he tells her to then he takes her to bed and gives her that super-orgasm for a reward. She doesn’t know it can happen with anybody.

  ‘I imagine one of the first things he made her do was recount every conversation she’d had with you for the last few months, looking for something to use against you. He really lucked out discovering your grandfather’s NN core plans.’

  Julia was silent for a minute, then said, ‘Thanks for not saying any of this in front of Grandpa.’

  He glared at her, feeling his hands ache as his blood rose.

  ‘Now what?’ she cried.

  ‘There’s just nothing that gets through to you, is there? I tell you that there’s a maniac out there who wants your blood; that you’re responsible for your best friend being raped twice a day for over a fortnight, that her mind’s being systematically destroyed, and all you say is thanks for not telling a swarm of electrons floating round in a mutated vegetable. You fucking ice-bitch!’

  ‘Well, for Christ’s sake what do you want from me!’ she screamed back. ‘I know all about bloody Kendric. I know more than anybody. I knew he was behind this right from the beginning. But all you cleverdick hardliners did was charge off after moles and hotrods. Nobody ever listens to a word I say, I’m just a nothing. I’m a signature on the bottom of papers. A performing seal. Well I’m not. I’ll bloody well show all of you. Nobody’s going to treat me like a joke after this. I’m going to kill that bastard di Girolamo for what he’s done to me and Grandpa. And you, gland freak, you’re going to get the proof for me, like you’ve been paid for. That’s all you are, a paid freako let out of the zoo. And if you want to stay out of your cage, freako, you’ll do what I bloody well tell you!’

  Greg slapped her. Not hard, his hand was still sore. But Julia stared at him for one frozen horrified second, then burst into tears.

  Greg raised his eyes heavenwards, cursing his own blundering stupidity. He saw the gardeners walking past the Duo, their wellingtons squelching through the puddles on the lawn. They glanced over at the car, its hot muffled voices, grey misted windows, seeing a figure hunched up in the front seat, face in hands, rocking back and forth. One turned to the other and barked a remark, there was a burst of lusty laughter, and they walked on. The shallow imprints left by their footprints slowly filled with muddy water behind them.

  ‘Greg? I didn’t mean it.’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry I slapped you.’

  ‘Didn’t hurt.’

  Her cheeks were smeared with silver snail’s trails of tears, nature’s aphrodisiac. She looked terribly fragile and appealing. The ivory tower princess fallen to earth with a bump, lost and frightened in the world she’d only ever glimpsed from afar. Greg wanted to put his arms round her and give her a big comforting hug. Resistance came hard.

  A big teardrop formed on the bottom of her chin. ‘Greg, he doesn’t want me,’ she said in a tiny voice.

  ‘Julia—’

  ‘No really.’ Red-rimmed eyes blinked in anguish. ‘He’s already had me.’

  She was suddenly in his arms, pressed against him, shivering uncontrollably. He hugged her, stroking her spine to give what reassurance he could. Praying he’d misheard, knowing he hadn’t.

  ‘I
was fifteen,’ she said.

  ‘Shush. It’s over.’

  ‘No, I want to say it.’

  He studied her face, seeing the need; his espersense slid behind the hot skin and damp eyes. She really was terrified of Kendric. Funny, he’d never noticed that before, but she’d always toughed out any mention of his name. ‘Then tell me.’

  ‘It was my fifteenth birthday party. I’d never been happier, the PSP had just fallen, Grandpa’s illness hadn’t developed, and me and all my friends were dressed up in such wonderful dresses. Kendric came with a present for me, perfume, all gift wrapped. Uncle Kendric. He and Grandpa hadn’t fallen out then, you see. He gave me the perfume, and said that was only half of the present. He told me his nieces and nephews were all going to go cruising on the Mirriam for a fortnight, a di Girolamo family outing, and would I like to come. I pleaded with Grandpa to let me go. Grandpa never can say no to me. And then when I went on board there was only Kendric, no relatives, no family cruise. He was waiting for me. My present. I was too young, too stupidly blind with romance to realize. He was so handsome, the older man, rich, and cultured, and charming. God was he charming. You can’t know what a man like that is capable of doing to the mind of a silly fifteen-year-old. The whole thing was like a channel drama made by the best director in the world, alone together on a yacht, surrounded by sea, shorelines, and golden sunsets. I loved every second of it. Believed every word he said. He hadn’t married Hermione then. I thought I was the one. I was going to marry him. I was going to have his babies for him. I didn’t believe God could create a monster like Kendric. Not on this world, the Good Earth.’

  She finished with a limp twitch of her lips. Greg carefully brushed some tangled wisps of hair from her face.

  ‘God,’ she choked. ‘You must think I’m bloody worthless.’

  ‘I think you’re quite beautiful, actually.’

  Punished eyes widened in surprise.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I never got in touch after you sent all that gear to the chalet, I didn’t trust myself.’

  ‘With me?’

  He gave a slight nod.

  ‘Oh.’ She wiped the back of her hand across her face, spreading her tears around. Greg smiled, and pulled a paper hanky from the glove compartment.

  They drew apart a little. But the spark of intimacy remained. It would always be there, he knew, carried to the grave.

  He cleared his throat, resentful that some analytical part of his brain never switched off, not even through this. ‘Julia, did you tell Kendric about the giga-conductor?’

  She wiped the last tear away and crumpled the hanky. ‘No. All this happened a year before Grandpa told me about Ranasfari and the giga-conductor research project; Ranasfari wasn’t even close to a cryogenic giga-conductor then. Kendric didn’t have any ulterior motive for seducing me. I was just fun, a notch on his bedpost. He enjoys it, the game he plays in his mind, me and all the other dumb little girls are no different to his business deals. The lies and clever words corrupt us, then we belong to him, worship him. He gets as much satisfaction from our beguilement as he does from the sex. He’s a power junkie.’

  He looked away, trying to lose the terrible image of Julia, a younger, smaller, more delicate Julia, lying below Kendric.

  ‘You will get the proof, won’t you, Greg?’ she asked urgently. ‘I’m so scared of him. I’ve not told anybody that before, but he frightens me.’

  ‘I’ll provide the proof Morgan Walshaw insists on, no messing.’ He kneaded his temple with thumb and forefinger. ‘There’s a couple of things I want you to do for me.’

  She regarded him with comic seriousness. ‘Anything.’

  ‘Firstly, go back into the house and have a word with Walshaw. I want your personal protection stepped up. You’re not the only one Kendric frightens; before yesterday I hadn’t realized exactly how warped that man is. He is quite capable of having you killed. Especially now he realizes that his games are over. It’s gloves-off time, I’m afraid, Julia.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Secondly: Katerina. I’m going to put a stop to that.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Snatch her from the Mirriam, and then shove her through detoxification treatment. But that’s going to cost.’

  ‘Money doesn’t bother me.’

  ‘Right. I suppose it’ll have to be in America or the Caribbean. I haven’t looked into it, hell, I don’t even know if you can detoxify a phyltre user. If not, then it’ll be a good research project for Event Horizon to undertake.’

  Julia nodded in relief. ‘I promise, Greg. Whatever it takes. Event Horizon has a clinic in Austria, they can do anything there.’

  Greg didn’t share her glibness about that, but at least she was genuinely intent on making amends. ‘Fine. I’ll snatch her back tonight.’

  ‘Tonight?’

  ‘Yes. I don’t want to leave her on the Mirriam a minute longer than necessary, I’d develop nightmares. I’ll bring her to Event Horizon’s finance division offices. Your people can take her from there.’

  ‘I’ll come.’

  ‘No, Julia.’

  ‘Yes. The finance division is just as secure as Wilholm. And I want to see her. After all, I’m the one who put her there, and I’ve had a taste of what she’s been through.’

  He nearly started to say no again, but there wasn’t a logical argument against her going. Besides, he could see Julia wasn’t going to be moved. Philip Evans wasn’t the only one she could wrap around her little finger. ‘All right, but you get Walshaw to make the travel arrangements, and turn up around midnight prepared for a long wait.’

  ‘Do you want the company security hardliners to help you?’

  ‘No. I’m not familiar with their capabilities. I do know all about the people I’m going to be using.’

  ‘What people? Tekmercs?’ she asked with frank curiosity.

  ‘Tell you sometime.’

  She gave him a timid smile. ‘That’s a date.’

  Greg turned the jammer off, and Julia opened her door.

  ‘Julia.’

  She froze with her legs out of the car.

  ‘Don’t try so hard, girl. You’re not exactly a frump, you know,’

  Her smile widened, becoming coquettish. ‘And Adrian isn’t just a lump of muscle, either. He’s very bright, and kind. And I like him a lot.’

  ‘Then I’m happy for you. See you later.’

  He didn’t rate a wave this time; she simply stood watching him drive off, looking small and sad. He folded the rear-view mirror’s image up and tucked it away in a corner of his mind. The last thing he needed now was any more guilt rattling round inside his skull.

  30

  Greg drove into Peterborough under a sky which the sun had transformed into a bitter saffron hemisphere raked with the occasional static pillar of cloud. He turned up the windscreen’s opacity, muting its eye-smarting intensity. There was a taut thread of pain running through his cortex, the neurohormones’ legacy.

  It wasn’t helped by wondering how he was going to square what he was doing with his promise to Eleanor. And then there was tonight’s snatch looming large. Another unforeseen. Events were ganging up on him, dictating his actions.

  The conspiracy was unnerving, tenaciously eroding any sensation of control over his life. He was a squaddie back in Turkey, utterly dependent on the wisdom of hidden enigmatic generals and the throw of God’s dice. Never again, he’d sworn. Easy to say.

  He blended the Duo into the arterial flux of traffic flowing through Peterborough’s outlying suburbs; a dawn to dusk convoy hauling the city’s lifeblood of goods from the industrial sectors to the port and the railway marshalling yard.

  Hendaly Street was the same as all the rest in New Eastfield, a long straight gorge of white buildings with grand arched entrances, wide balconies, dark windows, and ranks of flags fluttering on high. Pagoda trees thrust up out of the pavements in the centre of brick tubs; people sat on the benches round them, pensio
ners soaking up the sun, youngsters with VR bands plugged into gamer decks. Eleanor would enjoy living here.

  He had to stamp hard on the brake as the red light came on ahead of the Duo. Its meaning had almost been lost down the years. Working traffic lights, by God!

  The frontage of the Castlewood condominium was eighty metres long, standing back from the other buildings along the street, and screened with a discreet row of tall Caucasian elms. The entrance was below ground level, served by a private loop of road with card-activated barriers at each end.

  Greg parked a hundred metres further down the street and showed his card to the meter, punching in for six hours.

  ‘Six hours?’ a voice queried. ‘I wish I had an expense account like that.’

  Greg turned, and smiled. ‘Victor. You’re looking good.’

  Victor Tyo’s babyfaced good looks smiled back. ‘Riding high, thanks to you. I was promoted up to captain after our Zanthus excursion, got assigned to the command division down by the estuary. I guess Walshaw must approve of me.’

  ‘You’re my contact today?’

  ‘Yes. Again. I was at the office when the call came in.’ He tipped a nod at the Castlewood. ‘We’ve had it under observation for twenty-five minutes now.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘The rest of my squad. They’re covering all possible exits. We wouldn’t want our man to filter out without us knowing. I’ve already checked with the concierge, Ellis is at home right now. A human concierge, by the way, this place is definitely for premier-rankers. I couldn’t afford to rent the broom cupboard in there.’

  Walshaw hadn’t actually mentioned anything about a squad, but Greg could appreciate his reasoning. Ellis wasn’t the end of the line, but he was near. His confidence rose a fraction. Backup wouldn’t come amiss, not if they were as on the ball as young Victor.