“We hold the key to our futures.”
Carl headed down the passage without questioning the order. The more Luke saw of him; the more his benefits became apparent. He probably led his minions well because he followed Walter. By obeying first, he had learned how to command.
“I have an idea to end this,” Luke said. “But I need your help.”
Helen looked up from the console. “You can’t take on Timetronic. The best we can do is continue our campaign from another city, if we get out of London in one piece.”
“No offense, but it isn’t working. Blowing up a few clayports and pinning posters around urban pools is like throwing a deckchair off the Titanic. We can stop this madness tonight. Wallop them when they’re not expecting it.”
“You’re serious?”
“Carl mentioned that Timetronic runs an underground track from Wandsworth to the PCC. That’s our way to Lynch.”
“Quit the fancy talk,” Walter said. “We’ll wait for the holosnap.”
Regardless of what the message contained, Luke had already made his mind up. He would rather die on his feet than on his knees, and the next twenty-four hours would decide his fate.
Chapter 26
Luke stood in front of the monitors and rested his hands on the console. A delivery man entered The Mega Dive and glanced around at the upturned tables, broken glass, and the twisted remains of the battered shutter. He approached the bar, grabbed four boxes of food from his bag, placed them down, and slipped the holosnap into his pocket before heading back out.
One of the claycops in the Flamingo’s lobby sprung to his feet as the delivery man appeared on the outside camera, and raced across the square, confronted him and prodded him in the chest. The delivery man reached into his bag, produced two boxes and held them out. The cop snatched them and shoved him away.
Not only had Lynch made it personal with Luke, but his goons had also ticked off a pet hate: bullying. The only decent Timetronic employees he’d met were both almost certainly in serious trouble. Maria because of her role in his mission, and Lucy for helping him escape back into Zone Seven.
“Clays don’t even need food,” Helen said. “That’s pure greed.”
“It’s power,” Luke said. “Attracts the worst and corrupts the best. It’s easy when they sit in the comfort of the Pool Control Center, especially with laws against attacking them. I wonder how they’d react up close and personal?”
“Meakin hires thugs,” Walter said. “My guess is not much different.”
“After years of intimidating people with their extra claytronic strength, and never encountering real fear? I’m willing to bet they don’t.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“I’ve taken down similar characters. Challenge them in the flesh and they transform to shrinking violets. Claycops are nothing more than futuristic cyber-bullies. They act as they do out of insecurity and a belief they can’t be touched. We stop them tonight.”
Walter looked across to his team, who were all within earshot, and back at Luke. “I don’t like risking the lives of my people, but I’ll hear you out.”
“It depends if you’ve got enough weapons,” Luke said.
“Maybe I do.”
“Can we reach Timetronic’s tube line from here?”
“Let’s say for a moment we can.”
“Oh for God’s sake, Walter,” Helen said. “Luke’s right, we’ve nothing to lose. Answer his questions.”
“It’s ten minutes from here. We drilled through a couple of years ago. The track leads directly to a station below the PCC.”
“Do you know your way around complex?” Luke asked.
“Perry knows the layout,” Helen said. “He used to be a cleaner.”
The bruiser, whose name sounded friendlier than he looked, moved to Walter's side. “The station’s next to an underground storage depot. You need a security swipe to reach the atrium.”
Luke remembered the doors in the center; a standard type designed to block staff from entering restricted areas, not to stop armed raids, and nothing decent weapons couldn't solve. “Where’s the power supply?” he asked.
“Other side of the building, near solitary.”
“Final question: Is Clifton Hall in this PCC’s drone area?”
“It’s on the northern edge,” Helen said. “They can call reinforcements from other PCCs.”
“Not if their comms don’t work,” Luke said. “We attack the PCC, bomb the power supply, taking out their drone and claytronic capability, and head for Clifton Hall to deal with Lynch. Speed is paramount. After that, Helen takes control of Timetronic and allows me to direct a mass unplug at the facility.”
Walter leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “Three problems if we get past the claycops. One, they'll have backup generators. Two, passing the perimeter’s chain guns. And three, who says Lynch is at Clifton Hall?”
“We’ll thrash out details if you agree in principle. It’ll be the last thing Lynch or Meakin expect. The longer we wait; the more time they have to find us or figure out our next moves.”
“Nobody guards the outer building housing the generators,” Perry said. “We bomb both.”
“Isn’t Frank from the Halfway House pub a retired pilot?” Helen said. She moved behind Walter and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Imagine tomorrow if we pull this off? I’ll take charge of Timetronic, immediately shut down the clayservers nationwide, end virtual session control, and hire responsible citizens to police the streets. We’ll be free.”
“Along with the rest of the country,” Luke said. “Come on, Walter. I’m not spending the rest of my life running from Lynch or whoever he chooses as his successor. Neither should you.”
Walter shook his head. “We talked about it before. If it fails, we’ll spend the next century as ice pops. I never play when the odds are all or nothing.”
The door slammed at the end of the passage. Carl entered the cavern, headed over to the console, and placed down the holosnap. Green lettering glowed on its chrome surface saying, Walter and Luke.
“Any problems?” Walter asked.
“One of the cops asked who ordered the food. The delivery man told him it was an hour late and gave a bullshit name.”
“My decision rests on this. Lynch makes deals and isn’t stupid.”
Luke bit his lip. Lynch had only made deals with Walter because he knew nothing about his association with Helen, and more likely to ensure he kept one of the Zone Seven’s main influences in his circle of contacts.
“Play it,” Helen said. “Let’s get it over with.”
Carl reached for a console control pad and tapped it a few times. The monitors cut, leaving only a few winking lights on the radar and scanner to brighten the immediate area.
Walter squeezed the sides of the cube and its top sprung open. A thin stream of light speared out and widened into a meter-long cone. A three-dimensional digital timer flashed inside and counted down from five.
Gideon Lynch appeared, wearing a white plastic apron and a welding mask raised over his face. He stood in the center of the Colosseum, digitally restored to its former Roman glory.
“He’s senile,” Helen said. “These messages get worse every year.”
Lynch pointed forward, and his lips curled into a snarl, though the effect was lost as his finger aimed over everyone's head. “Walter the backstabber, my message to you is simple: stop being a ridiculous cartoon character. You’ve raced off the edge of a cliff, and your legs are still furiously spinning. The fall will come fast and hard unless you do one thing: bring me Helen Penshaw. In exchange, I'm offering Zone Seven’s survival. If you fail to agree to my terms, well, I’ll leave it to your limited imagination.”
He moved across the sandy surface to the left side of the arena. “If you kill Luke Porterfield I’ll throw in five percent of the company. But I need Helen first. Show some gratitude for once in your life.”
Walter reached back and grasped Helen's hand
. A positive sign and Luke hoped the lack of real choice had crystallized his decision. Only a snake would accept Lynch’s insult-laden offer and sell out his friends.
Maria came into shot, cowering in a chair. Her hands were bound behind her back, and tears streamed down cheeks and had dampened a filthy gag.
Luke stepped toward the hologram, balled his fists, and seeing the danger of Maria’s situation made him comprehend how much cared for her. Throwing off the shackles of his previous structured existence had also released other unexpected emotions, and raised his already colossal desire to shut down Lynch.
“Luke, for you I offer a simple trade,” Lynch said. “Hand yourself over and Maria goes free. If you force me to capture you, and I will eventually, you’ll both spend the next seventy years in prison. The deal stands for twelve hours.”
Lynch grabbed an electric drill from a table, held it next to Maria’s ear and revved it three times. She squeezed her eyes shut and let out a muffled scream. He ran the back of his fingers down the side of her face. “The skill of knowing your limits is having an understanding of your own ignorance. You both need to stop taking stupid pills and face reality.”
“I’ll kill him,” Luke said through gritted teeth.
A transparent timer appeared in the middle of the cone, counting down from five again. Lynch dropped his mask over his face, positioned the drill over Maria's knee, and lowered it.
The hologram cut.
Carl hit the control pad, and the monitors blinked on.
The holosnap bolstered Luke’s resolve to carry out his plan tonight, not that he needed any extra motivation; he needed other committed fighters.
“Well?” Helen said to Walter. “Are you turning me in?”
Walter stood and faced his team. “If anyone doesn’t want to be part of our attack, say it now.”
“I’m in, boss,” Carl said.
“Same here,” Perry said. “Lynch won’t give us a pass.”
“Me too. What’s the alternative?” Emma said.
“We forge our destiny,” Helen said. “I’ll make a start on the bombs. Perry, talk to Frank. Let him know his pub and Zone Seven are goners if he doesn’t help. That should focus his mind.”
“How many others can you muster?” Luke asked.
“By tonight? Only two who don’t work for corporations. We’ve spread out over the country, and pool-to-pool transport only runs in the morning. If we attack tomorrow night, I’ll contact other cells and have two hundred here.”
Luke considered her response. Attacking with a force of two hundred increased their chance of success, but it also gave Timetronic an extra twenty-four hours to locate the team, detect an influx of citizens into Zone Seven, and boost their defenses at the PCC. Lynch’s assured threats told him the doctor expected the group to hide instead of carrying out an immediate strike, and with the deal standing for twelve hours, they could hit the PCC before the deadline.
“The attack goes ahead tonight,” Luke said. “Round up who you can and we’ll hammer out a detailed plan.”
“They’ll notice the missing holosnap soon,” Walter said and grabbed an LED flashlight off the console. “Luke, Carl, we’ll go to the armory. The rest of you head to the crash room. We need to get away from here and deeper underground.”
“Lead the way.”
Walter headed along for the passage, followed by Luke and Carl, and outside into the gloomy corridor. He activated his light and guided them to a derelict pair of grimy escalators. They clanked down, past faded posters advertising London shows of decades past, and turned left at the bottom, coming out onto a long platform overlooking a single set of rails. He focused his beam to the far end and highlighted a large rack, bristling with over a hundred different sized muzzles. Five wooden crates lay beyond it.
“I take it Lynch doesn’t know about this?” Luke asked.
“He thinks I smuggled a few guns from Europe before they installed the scanners, and doesn't mind them inside Zone Seven. Shoot a resident and you're killing someone who doesn't believe in his version of society. Smoke a claycop and its fifty years in Wandsworth.”
“How did you get your hands on them?”
“A government decommissioning job twenty years ago,” Walter said as he continued toward the weapons. “Army surplus. Pistols, rifles, you name it. I showed them a block of melted metal, and they signed it off. That's the thing with our current system; it looks great from the outside; scratch the surface, and there's a massive lack of accountability.”
“I guess you thought this day might come?”
“Does a shark have a waterproof nose?”
Luke reached the rack and grabbed an unrecognizable black rifle. He knew an SA80 back to front, and this had similar features; a charging handle on the right, change lever magazine release on the left, and safety catch above the trigger guard.
“It’s an X90,” Carl said. “NATO standard 5.56.”
“Does it still exist?”
“NATO? Yeah, but I doubt for much longer.”
Walter lifted the lid off one of the crates, lifted out two green ammo boxes and a stack of loaded thirty-round magazines.
“Just to be clear,” Luke said. “I’m not arranging a bloodbath. Claycops are fair game; I’d prefer to stun or taser the rest.”
“The depot staff won’t fight us with forklift trucks,” Walter said. “Only clapcops are armed, and if you take out their power, their only choice is to physically attack.”
“I don’t intend to hang around and find out.”
Luke moved over to the crate, grabbed a magazine, and slid it into his rifle’s housing. The team had to plan for every eventuality before launching their raid and required clear rules of engagement. The last thing he wanted was hundreds of dead Timetronic employees on his hands. Maria and Lucy had shown not all were power hungry lunatics.
Chapter 27
A gust of wind blew across the Colosseum, whipping up grains from its sandy surface. Maria turned to avoid the fine spray. Her thighs ached where Lynch had pressed the drill and spun it, but so far he hadn’t broken her flesh or carried out his threat of transforming her head into a bowling ball.
Lynch had disengaged two minutes ago for a toilet break and thankfully hadn't reapplied the gag before leaving. She needed a compelling way to appease him when he returned. He was convinced Maria knew Walter had helped Helen Penshaw, based on her time growing up in Zone Seven, and the location of his secret hideout. Every time she denied it, Lynch’s face increased in redness; a vein bulged from the side of his forehead, and the drill’s pressure increased.
An image grew to Maria’s right.
She swallowed hard and told herself it wouldn’t last forever. Lynch had to realize sooner or later she spoke the truth. For some weird reason, he also believed Luke and her had swapped secret written messages during his initial integration.
A wooden chair formed and solidified.
The outline of a woman appeared; wrists zip-tied around the back of the frame. Color filled her skin, blue jeans, and a green t-shirt. Her eyes blinked open, she gasped and peered around the until meeting Maria’s gaze. “Who are you? What the…”
“They put you in solitary too?”
“No. We’re both handcuffed in an exec pod, heading north.”
Maria’s heart skipped a beat. Her new physical location meant there was no way Luke could mount an immediate rescue, and him finding her would be almost impossible with his limited knowledge of the modern world.
Timetronic directors used Exec pods, three times bigger than standard models, and used for travel between urban pools. Luke had no way of getting past the boundary.
“Did we pass the facility?” Maria asked.
“Haven’t a clue. I can tell you one thing, though. We ain’t going to a party.”
“I’m not in a party mood. Meakin cycled me through solitary’s scariest; The Volcano, Jurassic Forest, Avalanche, Tidal Wave and The Medieval Stocks. I eventually ended up here.”
<
br /> “This might creep you out; he’s in our pod.”
Maria shuddered at the thought. “You know Lynch controls sessions?”
“Are you surprised? He’s crazier than a soup sandwich. You don’t need to tell me about Timetronic’s ethics, by the way. My boyfriend disappeared after hacking them.”
“He might be plugged under a false name. They’re using Jane Agnew for me.”
“What’s your real name?”
“Maria, I would say pleased to meet you but…”
“Lucy,” she said, and a brief smile flickered across her face, “I hope you’re right. Why are they tanning you?”
“I was assigned as a liaison officer for a man who spent the last five decades in transport. He’s a great guy and opened my eyes. This morning, Lynch met me in San Francisco, waffled about old broadcasts, and when they disengaged me, Meakin had a gun in my face.”
“This guy, is he early thirties, shaven head, and stubble?”
“That’s Luke. Sounds like we’re in the same mess.”
“If it’s any consolation, I helped him escape. He told me he wanted to stop Lynch, and I believed him by the look in his eye. He destroyed two cops in seconds. You should’ve seen him move.”
“They captured him?”
“In Waltham Abbey. I created a diversion by heading to Zone Seven’s southern gate while he headed west. They arrested me as soon as they figured it out.”
“That’s a huge—”
A translucent outline of Lynch materialized in front of the chairs and tone flushed through it. He headed to the table without saying a word, placed the apron over his head, and grabbed the drill.
Lucy took a sharp intake of breath.
Lynch wrapped his finger around the trigger and gave it a double squeeze, spinning the drill bit as he approached her. “If it’s any consolation, Luke won’t be helping you escape. Tell me everything he said.”
“Just directions,” Lucy said. “He had me at gunpoint.”
“Really?” Lynch prodded the end of his drill against her knee. “I swore an oath when I became a doctor to uphold certain standards. They don't apply in virtual reality, so I suggest you start talking.”
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