by Seth Rain
‘Is it true?’ The Watcher asked, staring at the tattoo, his mouth open. ‘Is it true, what they’re saying?’
Isaiah hobbled towards them. ‘That’s what we want to find out.’
The Watchers looked at one another and whispered something. Then the one with the revolver lowered it and pushed it inside his coat.
‘Follow us.’
Thirty-Three
Scott picked up Rebecca’s phone and placed it on the table.
‘Remember choosing it?’ Rebecca asked. ‘You helped me.’
‘Of course,’ he said.
‘I don’t think I’ll miss it.’
‘You will,’ he said, taking his own from his pocket and placing it on the table next to hers.
‘I won’t. I’m tired of seeing you on yours. And I’m tired of wondering where mine is – that panic when you think you’ve left it somewhere. We’re better off without them.’
‘Hmm, I’m not sure,’ Scott said. ‘It feels important. Like it’s the end of something.’
‘No more internet.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s all porn anyway.’
Scott stared at the phones sitting on the table. ‘The internet was supposed to free us all. To take away central control and governance. It was all about the distribution and sharing of knowledge.’
‘It was, for a while. Then it became a different form of control,’ Rebecca said. ‘Thanks to phones and the internet, they knew where we were, where we were going, who our friends were, our likes, dislikes … everything.’
He sighed, then nodded. ‘We have to stay off the grid, stay as anonymous as possible.’
‘I think it’s too late for that.’
Scott tapped his phone then nudged it away. ‘Maybe.’
‘Do you think there’ll be more dates?’
‘I don’t see why not.’
‘Don’t,’ she said. ‘The thought scares me.’
‘They’ll have less chance of working them out when the internet is switched off.’
‘Maybe people will start writing letters again,’ she said. ‘I’d like that.’
‘You’d be a good letter-writer.’
‘I would, wouldn’t I?’
‘Will you write to me?’ he asked.
‘Of course. Who else am I going to write to?’
‘We have a couple of hours left of the internet,’ he said. ‘What should we do with it? It’s our last chance to explore the shared knowledge of a world civilisation.’
She smiled and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Porn,’ she said. ‘Let’s use the most important invention humanity has created and search for porn.’
Scott smiled. ‘What sort?’
‘You choose,’ she said.
Thirty-Four
Something stopped Scott from asking the Watchers about Freya and Noah; he was fearful the both of them would be walking into more trouble.
The sun had gone down and the drizzle continued to hang in the air. They approached the pub, the Fountain Inn, from the rear. It was a small, old building painted white.
Isaiah limped at Scott’s side. They followed the Watchers into the pub and were shown to a room at the front of the building where chairs had been set around a fireplace. Isaiah sat down and grimaced.
One of the Watchers offered Scott and Isaiah warm drinks. Another entered the room, holding blankets. Scott took one and draped it round Isaiah’s shoulders. The Watcher, a tall, thin man with long black hair, swept his coat to one side and pulled up a chair in front of Scott. His features were cat-like, his eyes blinking open and closed quickly.
‘We’ve been looking for you,’ he said. ‘What has happened is very exciting.’
‘Exciting?’ Scott asked.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound that way. I know you must have questions.’
‘Only one for now,’ Scott said.
Isaiah appeared to be in pain, his face screwed up.
‘Do you have something for the pain?’ Scott asked the Watcher, gesturing to Isaiah.
The Watcher stood. ‘Of course,’ he said, and glanced at another Watcher standing next to the door, who nodded and left.
‘Is Mathew here?’ Scott asked.
‘He is. And he’s eager to meet you.’
The other Watcher returned with a bottle of whisky and two glasses. Scott watched the whisky being poured, and took a glass. The Watcher tipped a pill into Isaiah’s hand.
‘Isaiah,’ Scott said. ‘Drink some. It’ll help with the pain.’
Isaiah took the glass from the Watcher and in one swift movement threw the pill into his mouth and finished the whisky.
Scott’s thoughts returned to Gregory and the narrowboat, upon which, only that morning, they’d enjoyed breakfast in comfort and safety.
Just as the Watcher opened his mouth to speak, the atmosphere in the room changed. A man entered the room. Mathew: Scott didn’t need to be told. Even Isaiah, dazed, registered his presence and tried to sit up straighter.
Mathew was an old man, well-built, broad, with thick grey hair and a beard. His movements were slow but assured. Scott detected a piety about him the moment he entered the room.
Mathew acknowledged everyone and nodded, smiling gently. He made his way to Isaiah.
‘My old friend,’ he said, stooping over him. ‘You look as if you are in pain. We will fix that.’
Isaiah leaned back into the settee and nodded.
Finally, Mathew’s eyes settled on Scott. ‘Well,’ Mathew said. ‘You must be Paul’s anomaly.’
The mention of Paul’s name made Scott glare.
‘Paul was so sure,’ Mathew said. He nodded at Scott’s hand. ‘Can I?’
Scott showed Mathew his hand and the tattoo.
Mathew nodded. ‘And do you believe him?’ he asked. ‘Do you believe what Paul told you?’
Scott didn’t know how much to tell him. Isaiah was resting and looked peaceful, at ease.
‘I don’t know,’ Scott said.
‘You don’t know?’ Mathew asked, smiling.
Scott thought for a moment. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I don’t believe it.’
Mathew nodded as though Scott had given the correct answer, before walking around the table in the centre of the room and sitting on a chair beside him.
‘How could you know?’ Mathew said. ‘Being given information like that must have been overwhelming.’
‘No date has ever been wrong,’ Scott said.
‘Not one,’ Mathew said.
Scott sipped his whisky.
Mathew shuffled back in his seat and crossed his legs. ‘Yet here we are.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Here you are – here, with me. After everything that’s happened, you followed Paul, then found your way to me. And in all that time you didn’t believe for one moment your date might be wrong?’
‘Paul sounded sure,’ Scott said.
‘He did? And you followed him? I’m sorry – it seems unbelievable to me that you would find your way here without even the smallest doubt. Paul was convinced your date was wrong, that we each have free will, that the AI is wrong. Yet you don’t?’
Scott clasped the whisky glass more tightly. ‘He told me my life was in danger.’
Mathew smiled. ‘And it’s not now?’
Scott placed his glass on the table and straightened up. ‘Do you know anything about this or not?’ He thrust out his hand to show his tattoo again.
‘Please,’ Mathew said, ‘forgive me. I’ve been told I have a difficult time adhering to the pleasantries of everyday life. I’m being rude. It’s just that I like to understand motivation – why a person does something.’
‘We need your help,’ Scott said impatiently.
‘Yes,’ Mathew said. ‘We can help you. And we will.’
‘Gabriel is looking for us.’
‘Ah, Gabriel. Yes. A devout man. But closed to change, to the evolution of information.’
‘He killed Paul.’
‘I heard,’ Mathew said, his ex
pression unchanged.
‘And he wants to kill us,’ Scott said, indicating himself and Isaiah.
‘Particularly you, I’m sure.’
A coldness came to rest on Scott’s shoulders, anger and tiredness making them sink further.
Mathew leaned forward in his chair. ‘Where are your friends?’
‘I don’t know.’
Mathew glanced at the Watcher by the door, silently communicating something to him that made him leave the room.
‘We can help you, Scott,’ Mathew said. ‘We can help them too.’
Scott watched Mathew’s eyes, wanting to understand what he was thinking, but they shifted from black to grey and back again.
‘We separated this afternoon,’ Scott said. ‘To have a better chance of avoiding Gabriel and of finding you.’
‘Gabriel has offered a lot of money for your capture,’ Mathew said. ‘He must feel rather upset at losing you.’
Scott stared at Mathew, swallowing the words he wanted to use.
‘Do you believe in the 144,000?’ Mathew asked.
The idea sounded as ridiculous as ever, but Scott restrained himself. ‘No.’
‘And how do you explain the number of Chosen?’
‘I’d guess someone is controlling how the dates are issued – controlling the number to fit the predictions made in Revelations.’
‘You really believe that? Who would have the power over the AI to do that?’
‘Either you, Juliet, or Gabriel. The Department of Artificial Intelligence?’
‘And free will? Do you believe in that?’
Scott shook his head.
‘A sceptic,’ Mathew said. ‘We have our work cut out with you, don’t we?’
Scott sighed. ‘Can you help or not?’
Mathew leaned forward. ‘Free will, Scott, is what makes us different from every other living thing on this planet. Free will sets us apart from every other animal. Without it, we are lost.’
‘You sound like Gabriel.’
Mathew sniffed loudly. ‘Well, we may think the same on a number of issues. But Gabriel’s answer to most questions is a blunt one. I’m more interested in … shall we say, in the delicacies of truth.’
‘My date.’ Scott asked. ‘Is it correct?’
Mathew wrung his hands, as though washing them. ‘We will find out once and for all.’
Scott waited, glancing over at Isaiah, whose pain appeared to have eased thanks to the whisky and pill.
A Watcher entered the room and said something to Mathew, who nodded, staring at Scott as he listened. When the Watcher was finished, without acknowledging Scott or Isaiah, he left the room.
‘Your friends,’ Mathew said. ‘Gabriel has them.’
‘Can you … find them?’ Isaiah asked, his words slurring.
Mathew nodded. ‘Of course.’
Scott shifted in his chair. His thoughts were with Freya, in danger. He shouldn’t have let her go with Noah. ‘Do you know where they are?’
Again Mathew nodded, appearing calm and untroubled by what he’d been told. ‘On the way to London. Where we need to go.’
Isaiah’s expression, Scott thought, reflected his own confusion. ‘London?’
Mathew rested his hands on his crossed legs. ‘You’ll be safe there. And I will take you to see the AI. We need to find out what’s happening with your date. Put your mind at ease.’
Scott straightened his back in the chair. ‘How?’
‘More data. You know how the AI works.’
‘But you believe in free will?’
Mathew closed one eye. ‘It’s complicated. Just because the AI can see the future, observe the path we follow, foresee the decisions we make, doesn’t mean that in those moments we are not choosing our actions freely.’
‘I think it does,’ Scott said.
‘And this is what you want?’
Scott leaned against the arm of his chair. ‘I want to know the truth.’
‘Ah, the truth. Of course. Isn’t that what we’re all searching for?’
‘The 144,000,’ Scott said. ‘You really believe it?’
‘Of course.’ Mathew’s brow furrowed. ‘The 144,000 has been foretold. They will lead the way to the kingdom of Heaven.’
‘But many of the Chosen are already dead.’
‘The Rapture will include everyone – the living and the dead. It is the soul that returns to Heaven.’
Scott rolled his eyes.
‘Do you find this difficult to believe?’ Mathew asked.
‘You could say that.’
‘Come with me to London. I will show you.’
‘And if we go to London and Scott speaks with the AI, you will protect him?’ Isaiah asked.
‘Of course.’
Scott stared at Mathew. ‘I need your word that you’ll do all you can to help Freya and Noah.’
‘Gabriel will not do anything stupid. It’s you he wants.’
Isaiah nodded his willingness to go with Scott.
‘Good,’ Mathew said. ‘We’ll leave in the morning. Now, get some rest.’
Mathew stood and bowed to Scott and Isaiah, who nodded in return, then left the room with two Watchers.
Scott leaned towards Isaiah. ‘Can we trust him?’
Isaiah looked hurt. ‘Of course. Mathew is a good man.’
‘Is he? Are you sure?’
‘He will keep you safe.’
Scott waited, listening to the voices recede down the hall. On the fireplace sat a carriage clock, ticking loudly. The dark green walls and high ceiling were illuminated by two ornate glass chandeliers. Scott looked at Isaiah; the drink and pills were working. Scott noticed Isaiah’s revolver in the inside pocket of his coat. The carriage clock continued to tick loudly. Isaiah’s breathing was deep and slow. Scott reached for the revolver and pulled it out of Isaiah’s pocket. It was smaller and lighter than he’d imagined. He hid it behind a cushion.
A Watcher appeared in the doorway.
‘Do you have a coat?’ Scott asked. ‘I’m cold.’
The Watcher frowned, then left the room. He returned with a coat. Scott put it on, then waited until he could take the revolver and hide it in his coat pocket. He lay on the settee, keeping the coat and revolver close to hand, and closed his eyes.
Thirty-Five
Freya stared at Noah, who was lying on a chair beneath the surgical-machine.
‘You’re not hungry?’ Gabriel asked her, nodding to the plate of food.
Freya shook her head.
Noah was unconscious, his body still, laid out on the reclining chair. The machine’s three arms turned and flexed slowly, with purpose and precision. On the holo-screen were numbers and graphs Freya did not understand, but something in its regular pulses and beeps gave her comfort.
‘I don’t regret what I was going to do,’ Gabriel said. ‘If I’d killed Scott, it would have saved many lives.’
‘But killing is wrong,’ Freya said.
‘You don’t know what I know.’
‘Then tell me.’
‘You wouldn’t believe me. It is too much.’
‘Tell me something,’ Freya said, her eyes fixed on the machine’s arms, which were simultaneously cleaning and stitching the wound in Noah’s chest.
‘When Juliet and I discovered what Mathew was doing, we stopped him.’
‘How?’ Freya asked. ‘That’s not what Mathew said.’
‘And what has Mathew said?’
Freya brushed back her hair. ‘That you betrayed him. That you had an affair with Juliet. That you allowed those dates to be released and now you regret it.’
Gabriel appeared surprised. ‘No,’ he said. ‘It was Mathew who took the 144,000 dates from the AI. He was going to take all of them – all nine billion – but Juliet was the best of us, the best coder. She stopped him.’
‘All of them?’ Noah asked.
‘All of them,’ Gabriel said. ‘And he will soon have them all, even without Juliet’s help.’
&nbs
p; ‘Why does Mathew want those dates?’ Freya asked.
‘Mathew is intent on bringing about the Second Coming.’
‘So it wasn’t you who shared the dates?’
‘No,’ Gabriel said, moving in his chair. ‘When Mathew discovered what happened between Juliet and me, he stopped us working with the AI. That was not long after the 144,000 dates were released.’
‘So he’s done this because he’s angry with you?’
Gabriel bowed his head. ‘It wasn’t just that. And we didn’t mean for it to happen. Mathew was angry with us. Before we knew it, he’d released the dates to the public. And the rest, you know about.’
‘It makes no sense,’ Freya said.
‘We were so concerned with asking whether we could read the deterministic nature of reality, we didn’t ask whether we should.’
They sat in silence for a short while and watched the surgical-machine working on Noah. The machine’s arms moved quickly and with precision, one arm threading the needle through flesh, the other cleaning the wound.
‘I couldn’t give up on the idea of free will,’ Gabriel said. ‘I couldn’t work out how the AI was factoring it in. It can’t have. Then it became apparent some of Mathew’s Watchers were taking matters into their own hands – killing the Chosen on their dates. But I knew of at least one date, from the very beginning, that was a problem for the AI.’
‘Scott’s?’ Freya asked. ‘Why was his a problem?’
‘I didn’t know it was Scott’s then. Mathew kept that information from me. We don’t know why the AI can’t read his date.’
‘And Mathew wanted to keep it secret so no one would question the dates?’ Freya asked.
Gabriel nodded. ‘We waited for Mathew to make his move. And he did – he sent Paul to take Scott.’
‘Why send just Paul?’ she asked. ‘And why now, after all this time?’
‘I’m guessing he left it a while so as not to arouse suspicion. But we had a tip-off that it was happening – that’s when we met in Birmingham. I think something huge is about to happen.’
‘And you think killing Scott will change it all?’
‘Mathew wouldn’t be able to ignore it. And nor would the Watchers in this country and around the world. I know you think I was wrong. But we’re running out of time. I have to put things right. If we can prove the AI is wrong, it will change everything.’