Utopia: A Dark Thriller: Complete Edition

by Adam Steel

  Someone had given the bar-tender a tip that Mr Li will ask for it ‘onzarokku’ meaning - on the rocks. He had. Several times. He was wondering if he should order some ‘umeboshi’ to get rid of his anticipated hangover.

  Drinking the Yoichi reminded him of a time when he and his father had gone to a business meeting at a bar in Japan. They had ended up with a two day hangover, or “futsukayoi” as his father had called it. He supposed that his father would have been proud of his performance in the board-room if he had still been alive.

  He emptied the last of the whiskey from his glass and sighed heavily. He continued to muse over the events of the day. Royale and Katcher had made their exit from the banqueting hall as speedily as they could. It had been much to the disappointment of Governess Farquhar who had been trying to cosy up to them. He was thinking that they would both be back at Fin-Sen by now. He guessed that they would probably be working out how to proceed after the disaster by Katcher’s cronies. For once he was glad that he was not in Katcher’s shoes. Royale had looked ready to eat him alive and he almost believed she could have done. The look that Katcher had given him had ‘sent him’ straight from the banquet to the cocktail lounge.

  That is what had started the drinking.

  He was worried that in exposing Mason Katcher he might have to face serious consequences. He was thinking that there was two ways this could go. Either Royale was going to dismiss him and have him sent the way of Maxwell Blunt or...he did not want to think about the second option. It was just too worrying. He reminded himself of the look on Katcher’s face at the board-room meeting and Maxwell Blunt’s empty banquet seat. It brought him a sense of victory. Then more miserable thoughts crept into his mind. He was finding it hard to think clearly. The Yoichi was clouding his thoughts. He wasn’t used to drink. He thought of Ellie back in Coney City. He wondered if she would still be at work. She had been working late the last two nights.

  Maybe that was just an excuse to avoid me, he thought, and it depressed him further.

  He signalled the barman for another drink. The amber liquid spilled into the glass, preceded by two clinking ice cubes. He had one more day away to get through, which was the rest of the conference the following day. He had no enthusiasm for it. As far as he was concerned the game was over, and he was the winner. However, the idea of what his prize might be, worried him.

  It worried him A LOT.

  He was thinking that he never used to worry this much and that life seemed to be getting more complicated. Dark, alcohol-induced, thoughts hovered on the edge of his consciousness. They spoke to him in tiny, far away voices. He tried not to listen.

  Have I made a mistake with Ellie?

  It did all happen very fast.

  Should I stay with her?

  He blocked the thoughts out. He found it all too depressing. He realised that now that Maxwell had been dealt with he would be able to return to Coney City and work on his relationship with Ellie. The problem was that he had no idea where to start. He frowned and sighed hard again.

  ‘What should I do?’ he whispered desperately to himself.

  ‘Do about what?’ a soft voice beside him answered.

  He looked up from his glass to see a pretty young woman, who had taken up the cocktail stool beside him. She was wearing an extremely short, backless, black dress, which, when she crossed her legs, revealed her milky white thighs. She had short blonde hair and blue eyes. She was wearing a black necklace, which seemed to stretch when she moved. It covered most of her neck. She was wearing a copious amount of black eyeliner and false eyelashes. Her lipstick was a deep red colour. Her evening shoes were black and had very high heels. She was holding an empty cocktail glass and looking sympathetically at him.

  ‘Bad day?’ she quipped.

  ‘Uhhh, yes. Something like that,’ he replied, sounding surprised at the sudden appearance of the intruder.

  The woman wriggled a little closer towards him. She held out her hand and smiled.

  ‘Names Marcia,’ she said, and shook his hand

  He looked at her with a bemused expression.

  ‘Mr Li,’ he answered.

  ‘You look like you could do with a little company. Mr Li,’ she added.

  She uncrossed her legs, and then crossed them again and he caught a glimpse of her red lace panties.

  ‘Uh hum…I…don’t mean to be rude, but I wouldn’t be good company…I,’ he started to stutter.

  ‘You’re one of those executives right? From Coney?’ she said, brushing off his comments.

  She put both her hands on her empty glass and twirled it around, looking at it, then back at him.

  Maybe this is the girl Maxwell Blunt and Belushi were talking about, he thought. It gave him a hint of satisfaction to know that both the men, would have been escorted out of the building by now, and that Marcia, was beyond Belushi’s disgusting ‘financial moves’. That’s two women saved in one day. I’m becoming a regular hero, he thought, drunkenly. He got the girl’s hint, and reluctantly signalled the bar tender.

  ‘One for lady. Whatever she’s drinking,’ he said, and took a gulp of Yoichi.

  Marcia looked straight at the barman, smiled sweetly, and said quite boldly.

  ‘I’ll have an Orgasm.’

  He almost choked on his Yoichi. She turned to him and laughed.

  ‘Marcia…Please - call me Marcia,’ she repeated.

  ‘I like Orgasms. Do you?’ she declared, smiling at him cheekily.

  He looked flabbergasted.

  ‘Look...Marcia. I’ve had a really long day, and honestly, I’m not really good company,’ he said, wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

  ‘You looked lonely that’s all. I only wanted to talk to you,’ she replied, and pretended to look injured.

  He looked embarrassed. He was thinking that perhaps he had got her all wrong.

  The bartender raised an eyebrow at the sultry, Marcia.

  ‘Uhhh…Marcia…Uhhh…’ he stumbled.

  He did not know what to say, or how to behave. He was useless with women, especially good looking ones. He thought about Ellie, and how things had been so distant since Irene’s death. He missed making love to her. He was frustrated, confused and tempted.

  The bartender placed the Orgasm in front of her. Marcia eyed his drink.

  ‘So, whatcha drinking?’ she asked.

  He picked up the whiskey glass and admired the amber liquid again.

  ‘This,’ he said, with slightly slurred pride, ‘is Yoichi. It’s Japanese, and the finest drink in this whole damned bar.’

  He caught himself as the words came out. He never swore out loud and he had surprised himself. He was thinking that the Yoichi was definitely having an effect on him and that the sexy Marcia, was starting to have an altogether different effect on him downstairs.

  Marcia tittered next to him.

  ‘Japanese huh? Makes you wonder where they get it from. Didn’t think Utopia bought in from abroad,’ she challenged.

  He frowned as he looked at the Yoichi in his glass. He could remember, dimly, that someone else had brought up that same question with him. His mind fogged over. He couldn’t remember now. He did not notice that Marcia had suddenly gone quiet and he did not see her quickly bite her lip. He noticed that there was a strange look, in her luscious blue eyes.

  Abigail Winters bit her lip. She knew that she had almost blown it. Her snide jab about the ‘Hypocritical Utopian Imports’ had slid off her tongue so easily. She gauged Jon Li’s troubled reaction to ‘Marcia’s’ uncharacteristic comment. He did not seem to recognise her as being the reporter who had hounded him on the steps of Phoenix Palace on the night of the Masquerade Ball. She tittered at him again, and noisily sloshed more of her cocktail, hoping that he would continue to buy her deception. She had failed to get anything out of Aya about Aarif’s arrival, or his dealings with the masons, during their brief encounter on the monorail. When her newspaper The Daily Informer, had wanted reporters to travel to Eden
to cover the conference, she had carefully checked the list of names that would be attending. She had run her finger down them, checking off the names.

  Mason Hester Royale

  Mason Bruce Katcher

  SSA Angela Bitton

  SSA Maxwell Blunt

  Her finger had stopped on the next name.

  Executive Jon Li.

  She would be going to Eden all right. But not as a reporter, no freelance reporter would get close. She’d be going as Marcia-the irresistible bimbo, she had decided.

  She had been tailing Jon Li at the banquet. It had been easy for her to get in. Men caved in to Marcia’s dubious charms, as easily as if she had been handed a set of keys. She had almost pitied them. In her opinion they were weak. Well, most of them anyway, she had thought. She had had to wait to catch one of them off guard. She had calculated that getting close to Mason Katcher would have been impossible. Maxwell Blunt had gone, so that had left Jon Li. Perfect.

  She had sat in the cocktail bar for hours before Jon Li had arrived. She had watched him slowly work his way through the whiskey: waiting for her chance to pounce. It had been fairly early in the evening when Jon Li had arrived and she had been thinking that he must have had a particularly harrowing day to have been drinking so much, so early. She had waited until he had looked on the verge of being drunk. To her delight, he had also looked vulnerable. She had almost felt sorry for him.

  Jon Li hadn’t paid any attention to Abigail, who had been sitting at the other end of the curved bar, drinking with one of the security men, and he hadn’t even noticed her until she had approached him. Abigail could see Jon Li’s vulnerability and she seized on her chance again.

  ‘Thank you so much Mr Li…or is it…what’s your name? I can’t keep calling you Mr Li. It’s so informal,’ she grinned and sipped her cocktail.

  ‘Uh huh…Jon…It’s Jon…’ he muttered awkwardly.

  Abigail deliberately leaned forward on the bar. Her loose fitting dress shifted forwards slightly, revealing more of her pert breasts. He coughed and pretended not to look.

  ‘Jon. Nice name,’ she said softly.

  He ordered another drink from the bartender. She was sitting very close to him and he was feeling woozy from the Yoichi.

  ‘What do you do in Coney City? You must be important!’ she flattered.

  He laughed, thinking that he might be unemployed by the time he got back to Coney City.

  ‘Depends on what happens,’ he replied, cryptically.

  Abigail considered what to do next. It was late, past ten, she figured that she might not have much longer left. With Aya gone, either in hiding, or perhaps dead, Jon Li would be the last person that she could get anywhere near for a long time, who might know why Aarif had come. It was her intention to try and find out what the real purpose of Aarif's visit was. She had to know what part Aarif would play in the mason’s schemes. As far as she knew they had never brought in an outside dignitary before and it could only mean a huge shift in their plans. That thought terrified Abigail more than she dared admit. She considered how ‘Marcia’ could bring the subject up with Jon Li.

  ‘So…You were in that important meeting? Was it about that visiting prince? The one who was at the ball. He’s so gorgeous! What an amazing visitor!’ she coaxed.

  Jon Li frowned again. He was about to answer, when his Lecturon chimed.

  ‘Excuse me,’ he said, as he fitted its earpiece into the opposite ear from Marcia.

  ‘Jon. Do you suppose we could go somewhere quieter?’ she pleaded, slipping down from the stool.

  He clicked the switch on his Lecturon.

  “The time is 10:03 p.m. and you have one new message Executive Li.”

  He held up a hand to politely to request that Marcia wait, as he instructed the device to replay the message.

  “Executive Li.

  You are requested to return to Fin-Sen headquarters immediately.

  Your attendance at the Eden conference tomorrow is cancelled.

  Please proceed to the Heli-pad for immediate departure.

  Mason Royale.”

  He clicked the device off. Thoughts whirled in his drink-addled mind. Royale wants to see me? Now? Oh no! The helicopter ride, and I’m drunk. I’m going to be sick. This is it. I’m so fired. Or... he stopped. That did not bear thinking about.

  ‘Who was that?’ Marcia piped up.

  He looked shocked and awkward.

  ‘I’m very sorry, Marcia. I have to go. Something urgent has come up. I’ve got to head back to Coney City,’ he apologised.

  He got down from the stool, and looking unsteady on his feet, turned to leave. Marcia got up to shadow him. Her posture had changed.

  ‘Li, tell me why Aarif is here,’ she stated flatly.

  All traces of drunkenness had disappeared from her eyes. They were now fierce and shining. Her stance was determined and aggressive. He shrank back: confused.

  ‘I’m sorry…Marcia…but…what?’

  Abigail moved in on him.

  ‘Jon Li. Why is he here? Come on! You must know!’ she was almost yelling at him.

  The pieces finally clicked into place for Jon Li. He saw Abigail’s persistent face yelling questions at him. The reporter from the ball. She’s a reporter. I don’t believe it. I’m such a fool! A stupid drunken fool. No wonder I’m being fired. He backed away, scowling.

  ‘You’re a reporter! I remember you. You were at the ball. How can you do this? Don’t you have any ethics?’ he argued.

  Abigail tried to reason with him, but it was too late.

  ‘Get away from me! You should be ashamed. But you people never are, are you?’ he said angrily.

  ‘Goodnight Marcia-or whatever your name is! Now get out of here before I call security.’

  He marched off in the direction of the lift, without looking back.

  Abigail was left standing at the bar looking miserably worried.

  Fin-Sen Building: Coney City

  Later that Evening

  The flight back to Coney City (in the pitch black) had seemed to take only seconds, rather than the hour it had taken to get to Eden. He had sat in silence, as the metal dragonfly, carried him back through the darkness wondering what awaited him at Fin-Sen headquarters. He had been alone in the back of the helicopter. The two pilots at the front of the machine had been silent on the way back. If they had spoken to each other, he hadn’t been able to hear them.

  His attendance at the conference had been cancelled. That had not sounded encouraging to him.

  The message: “You are requested to return immediately” circled around in his mind.

  It was the middle of the night. It had not been a request at all. It had been a direct order. The helicopter skimmed through the night leaving Eden far behind. They flew over the twisted ruins of the old cities, and the vast forest that surrounded Coney City.

  Somewhere far below, a stolen truck weaved its way through the trees, set on its on desperate course towards the sparkling city in the distance.

  Despite the quantity of alcohol that he had drunk at the cocktail bar earlier, he had not felt as sick as he had expected during the flight. He was more worried about the reason for Royale’s command ‘that he return with immediate effect’ than his fear of flying. He had tried and failed to message Ellie from his Lecturon. He had wanted to let her know that he was on his way back, but the message would not send.

  The device reported back: “SERVER ERROR.”

  He did not understand what it meant. He decided that he would try again when he reached Fin-Sen. He figured that perhaps it was out of range. He was cursing his foolishness back at the cocktail bar. He had allowed the reporter to get close to him. He knew that it was expressly forbidden to discuss company business with any outside reporting agencies. It was a sack-able offence. He vowed to be less vulnerable in the future. He told himself that he would not be making that mistake again.

  He had barely noticed the aerial descent to Fin-Sen, when he had walked hyp
notically, out of the terrifying, metal dragonfly. It was cold and windy on the roof of the Fin-Sen building. The helicopter rotors slowed to a halt. It was silent, except for the trickling of water and the wind. Underneath the glaze of water that surrounded the helipad, blue lights shone into the sky, forming a blue column, which disappeared into the heavens. They hadn’t been visible during the day. The whole building had taken on a different feel to it in the cold night air. It was dark and lonely compared to its usual bustle and brightness. The lights surrounding the staircase which would lead him to the Masonic Offices, were off. It looked dark and empty down there. He frowned in confusion.

  He looked back at the two pilots. They were switching the controls off one by one, and preparing to disembark themselves.

  ‘Hey! So, now what? Do you know where I’m supposed to go?’ he called to them.

  The pilots ignored him, and carried on shutting down the helicopter. They did not even turn to look at him. His knees began to shake, but not from the cold. The stairs leading up to Royale’s penthouse were lit, he could see lights in the Penthouse. He could hear soft music emanating from the Penthouse. I don’t like this, he thought. This feels…wrong. She can’t possibly mean…

  He checked his Lecturon again. The message to Ellie refused to be sent. It sat there on the screen haunting him. He replayed the message from Royale.

  “Executive Li. You are requested to return to Fin-Sen headquarters immediately…

  He fumbled to get his ear piece in.

  ‘Request enhancement,’ he whispered into the device.

  For a few seconds nothing happened. Then a response from the device came that chilled him to the bone.

  “Floor 101.”

  That can’t be right. That’s Royale’s penthouse. Nobody ever goes to meet her in her private penthouse…unless…he thought, and gulped.

  The pilots disembarked from the helicopter, and pushed their way past him and headed down through the darkened staircase and into Fin-Sen. Every bone in his body told him to follow them.