by Malcolm Rose
“I... er... I got knocked about a bit by a white lad.”
There was a quiet gasp among his audience.
It was going to plan. Luke had got most of the Visionaries around him. He shook his head. “Maybe I was asking for it, I don’t know, but I saw him having a go at two little lads in Regent’s Common, calling them all sorts because of a bit of mischief. I stepped in and asked him a few questions. Found out he’s training to be a doctor. When I told him he gave me the creeps...” Luke pointed to his bruise.
“You’re an FI. What are you going to do about it?”
“I didn’t have my mobile with me so I’ve got no proof,” Luke replied. “There’s nothing I can do. As far as the law’s concerned, he’s in the clear.” Hoping that Lost Bullet was listening, he added, “But I know where he lives – in that huge concrete tower on Marylebone Freeway – and he messes around in Regent’s Common. Next time I pay him a visit, I’ll have my mobile.”
The gathering fractured into smaller bunches and then, gradually, each cluster broke up as Visionaries drifted away. First, Rachel and Samuel left, probably to attend to the twins. Samuel walked perfectly. Mostly, the members strolled out in groups of two, three or four. One man, though, went on his own. And he limped.
Luke could see only his back. He was about follow when Kurt – probably the oldest Visionary in the Church – gripped his arm. In Kurt’s other hand, he held a walking stick.
The old man said, “It’s so good to see some new blood coming in. The youth of today, they’re just not the same. They’re behind all this lawlessness. They don’t have respect for God and His law. Not like you.”
“True,” Luke answered. He was desperate to leave but it was too dangerous for him to act suspiciously – like an investigator. He couldn’t simply dash away. Besides, Kurt still had hold of his left arm. Glancing over Kurt’s shoulder, he asked, “Do you know who that is?” He pointed, just before the man limped out of view. “I spoke to him earlier but it was embarrassing because I didn’t know his name.”
“Ah, my eyes. They’re not how they used to be either. But... er... I think it was Reece.”
“Reece?”
“Yes.”
“Reece what?”
“He keeps himself to himself. You know, now I come to think of it, I’ve never heard his other name. I just know him as Reece. He’s a good man, though.”
“Thanks. It’d be good to chat to him some more if I can catch him up.”
Kurt smiled. “That’s right, youngster. I wish I had your energy. Yes, off you go. Might as well use your legs while they’re still healthy. Not even God and a good life can stop them wearing out sooner or later.” He let go of Luke’s sleeve, slapped his right leg and let out a laugh that was halfway between a wheeze and a cackle. “You won’t see me getting a move on these days.” As a parting, he said, “Respect!”
Luke was about to make a getaway when Ethan intercepted him. The preacher warned him not to champion the Church’s aims so energetically that he got himself into trouble. “That wouldn’t do us – or you – any good at all.” Then he said, “I heard you’re helping Samuel, though. That’s a better way to start, Luke. Thank you.”
Luke shrugged. “No problem.”
“Till the next meeting, then,” Ethan said, his eyes fixed on Luke.
“Respect.”
Luke walked away but, as soon as he was out of view of the remaining Visionaries, he sprinted as fast as the dark tunnels allowed, hoping to close the gap on the limping man. Yet, when Luke emerged from the cab station into the lamplight, he saw only the man’s outline going west on Strand Corridor. Once more, Luke took off at pace.
He didn’t get very far. Almost at once, a gang of about ten people came between him and his quarry. By habit, Luke glanced over his shoulder but Malc wasn’t there. His mobile’s new defensive and offensive capability would not save him. Luke was on his own. It was no use showing the mob his identity card to prove he was an investigator. Knowing that an FI’s card was incredibly valuable, they would simply steal it. Besides, he was young and there was no sign of a mobile aid to law and crime so they’d probably think he had lifted the card from a real forensic investigator.
“What do you want?” said Luke.
Most of them were men but it was one of the two women who replied. “Everything you’ve got.”
Luke was confident that he could take on one or two of the bandits but not all of them.
They shuffled into a line and began to curve round Luke, intending to encircle him completely.
The woman said, “You got any weapons?”
For a second, Luke was torn between the truth and a bluff. He decided it was less dangerous to be honest. “No.”
“Shame. We could use some.” The ringleader came up close to him and said, “Okay. We’ll start with the coat. Take it off.”
“My coat?”
“Is there something wrong with your ears? Or shall I make something go wrong with them?” There was a knife in her hand.
Luke put his hands on the zip but hesitated.
“I wouldn’t try anything, if I was you,” she snarled.
Luke had not unzipped his coat before some of the thugs shouted a warning to each other. Then, they all began to run away down Strand Corridor in panic.
Luke turned round to see what had scared them. Behind him, Kurt was standing in the cab tracks with a walking stick in one hand and a gun in the other.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Luke’s heart pounded and his stomach churned. Perhaps he’d been chasing the wrong man. He could be facing Lost Bullet right now. Kurt might look frail but even an old and weak Visionary could pull a trigger.
Kurt gave one of his rasping laughs and said, “You looked like you could use some help, youngster. I may be getting on a bit but I’ve got my uses, you know.”
Still shaken, Luke said, “Thanks.”
“I told you,” he muttered, “there’s a lack of respect for God’s law today. It needs sorting out.” He slipped the gun back into a pocket. “You can’t rely on me to do it much longer. Not at my age. Well, I’m off.” He hobbled towards Duncannon Walkway.
“Thanks again,” Luke shouted after him.
Kurt raised his free hand but did not turn round.
****
In the safety of his hotel room, Luke updated Malc’s unofficial and patchy descriptions of Visionaries. He concentrated on Kurt and Reece but there was little he could say about Reece. He had not got close enough to draw an accurate picture. Then Luke tried to tell Malc what he had done at the Church. “I planted a few seeds. I’m betting I’ll get fruit tomorrow.”
“Impossible.”
“Are you having a grump because I left you on your own again?”
“I do not grump about anything, but The Authorities have their concerns about your methods.”
“Only because you told them.”
“Correct. I do not choose to transmit details. I do not have free will. I simply execute programs.”
“The Authorities will forget their concerns if I arrest Lost Bullet tomorrow – while you’re there.”
Luke went to bed with a head too full of hope and dread to sleep. He worried that he’d be putting Owen Goode in danger. He worried that Lost Bullet would carry on his campaign of tribal cleansing. And he worried that he was out of his depth. Yet Luke felt a compulsion to continue, no matter how risky it became.
When he did eventually slip into a restless sleep, Ethan’s rattlesnake was coiled on his chest. It stared at him with its dead eyes. In the background, he heard a whisper. “The laws of nature know nothing of Pairing Committees. They know only of love and companionship.” Then there was Jade’s voice. “It happened today. The Pairing Committee’s found me a new mate. He’s not Luke Harding.” In the next moment, he seemed to be looking down on his own bed. Where he should have been lying he saw only a sad bunch of lilies. Beside it, where he’d hoped to see Jade and his parents, there was only Malc.
/> Then it was Sunday morning.
****
The razor made a scraping noise as Lost Bullet brought it up from the back of his neck, over the top of his head, and onto his brow. He was nearly ready. When God called upon him to pull the trigger three more times, he would be pure of mind, pure of body. God would be pleased with him.
It was obvious to Lost Bullet. Luke Harding was not a convert to The World Church of Eternal Vision. He attended church meetings in a crazy attempt to solve six murders. He was setting a trap. Lost Bullet had watched the inexperienced FI and listened to him carefully. He knew precisely what was going on. He laughed aloud. He was also certain that a mere mortal like Luke Harding would not catch him. God would not allow His good work to be challenged by a mere youngster. Lost Bullet would shatter the defiled heart of the white boy. Then he would rid the world of FI Harding. It was justified because the investigator was faking faith. He was making a mockery of the Church. And that made Lost Bullet angry. For some reason, God’s snake had not struck Harding down in church so now it was up to Lost Bullet.
He put down the razor and picked up the tweezers instead. He leaned in towards the long mirror and plucked out the few eyebrow hairs that were attempting to grow again.
Soon. Soon.
****
Luke and Owen were the only ones at the community centre in the early morning. Owen listened to Luke with his mouth open and a look of disbelief on his face and then exclaimed, “You’re going fishing for a killer shark and I’m your bait! That’s what you’re saying.”
Luke shrugged. “Yeah. I guess so. But I’ll do everything I can...”
“What if it’s not enough?”
“I’m not giving you a guarantee. There’s no such thing. But I’ll be there and I’ll order Malc to stay with you all the time. Maximum surveillance and defence mode.”
Owen shook his head. “You’re no bodyguard, are you? You’re an investigator. You take care of people after they’ve been shot, not before. I don’t want to become one of your subjects.”
“Malc’s programming covers protection.”
“He’s just a machine. Not good enough.”
“I am a state-of-the-art...”
Putting up his hand to stop Malc, Luke sighed. “How do you feel about being white, Owen?”
“How do I feel? No different from anyone else. I sure look different but I don’t feel different.”
“Exactly,” Luke replied. “But that’s not how some see you. These people called Visionaries want to get rid of you because you’ve got a tiny genetic difference. According to them, that’s a terrible sin. For one of them, it’s a reason to kill and, if he’s not stopped, he’ll carry on killing because he thinks he’s doing right. He thinks he’s doing the world a favour to assassinate doctors, Pairing Committees and white people.”
“Stopping him’s your job, not mine.”
“True. But I need a bit of help. I’m asking you.”
“No chance. Not even for an identity card.”
“Sure?”
“Certain.”
Luke shrugged. “Well, I can’t force you.” From his coat pocket, he extracted the card and held it out to Owen. “Here. You can have it anyway. It’s no use to me.”
Owen glanced down at the card but made no attempt to take it. Instead, he gazed at Luke. “You’re giving me it even though I won’t play your game?”
Luke nodded. “I saw you with those kids, sorting out a football match for them. They looked up to you. You were doing a great job. You deserve an identity card.” He handed it over, turned and walked away moodily.
Luke was about to enter the warren of Soho walkways – a strange mixture of concrete and jungle – when Owen called out, “Wait.” Walking up to Luke, Owen said, “He stays with me?” He nodded towards Malc.
Cheering up instantly, Luke answered, “Yes. For your protection.”
“He’s still got that fancy zapping thing?”
Luke smiled. “A laser, yes.”
“All right. You got a deal.” Owen paused before adding, “Anyhow, likely you’ll get to Regent’s Common in one piece if I take you. I know London.”
Above them, the heavens had cleared and the rain had finally stopped. The city was a sponge that had soaked up as much water as it could take. Even without more storms, it would remain saturated for days.
When the three of them reached the tower block on Marylebone Freeway, Luke unlocked the door but Malc insisted, “I will go first.”
“Why?”
“Because you are not bullet-proof.”
“Are you?”
“Not entirely. My scanner and sensors need outlets and inlets that cannot be protected. However, I can be repaired or replaced easily, unlike human beings.”
There was no one in the lobby. When the doors of the elevator sprang back, Malc was the only one in view. Luke and Owen had flattened themselves against the adjoining wall. But it was unnecessary. The elevator was an empty box. They rode up to the eleventh floor and, again, when the doors opened, only Malc went out to check that the way was clear. It was. The whole building was eerily quiet. They made their way to Anna Suleman’s quarters. Luke and Owen stayed outside while Malc scanned the apartment with visible, ultraviolet and infrared radiation. When he declared it free of living creatures, he invited the two boys to enter.
Owen looked around in awe. He was particularly taken with the bathroom. “It’s got a bath and a shower! Fantastic. And a clean toilet and a sink.” He went back into the living room and said, “So, this is how it is for posh people.”
Luke smiled. “Today, it’s how you live.”
When Owen went towards the window to get a good view over London, Luke said, “No. Keep away from all the windows.”
Owen nodded. “Good point.”
Lost Bullet could have been squatting in the derelict property on the opposite side of Marylebone Freeway. Right now, the barrel of a rifle could be poking out of one of its broken windows, hidden by the masses of leaves.
“What do we do now?” Owen asked, sitting down. “Wait for a big, bad man with a big, bad gun to come along and kill me?”
“I don’t think so,” Luke answered. “Put yourself in his shoes...”
“No thanks.”
“He probably doesn’t know which apartment...”
“Unless he followed us here and ran up the stairs till he got to the floor the elevator stopped at.”
“The building’s locked. You saw that.”
“So, he can shoot people but he can’t smash a window.”
“Okay. He might’ve got in,” Luke admitted. “He might be on the other side of the door right now. But it’s locked and Malc will hear him before he can get in and fire. Anyway, I think he’ll wait out there.” Luke pointed out of the window. “If he doesn’t know where we are inside, he’ll hang around outside.”
“And what’s Malc going to do when he sees the bad guy?”
“If he’s carrying a rifle, Malc will burn his hand until he drops it. If he tries to pick it up, he’ll fry his hand again. If he’s already taking aim, Malc will blind him temporarily. It’s a clever laser.”
“You want me to go outside, don’t you? You want me to parade around making myself a target.”
“No. That’d look too obvious. But I thought you might want to kick a ball around in the park.”
“With you?”
Luke shook his head. “I’ll be close with Malc, but out of sight.”
“You said he’d be with me all the time. Maximum defence, you said.”
“That’s right. He can protect you just as easily from a few metres away. You see, if this Visionary sees Malc or me, it’s a giveaway that I’ve tricked him.”
Trying to cheer himself up, Owen replied, “You could join in the kick-around if you put a wig on, and a false beard.”
“Sorry,” Luke said with a comical shrug, “I forgot to bring my kit of disguises.”
Malc interrupted. “Forensic investiga
tors do not have a...”
“Anyway,” Luke butted in, “if he finds out it’s a trap, he’ll be scared off or he’ll be angry. I don’t think either of us wants to face him when he’s angry.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lost Bullet was supremely confident. He was clever, he had the element of surprise, he’d worked out Luke Harding’s plan and, of course, God was guiding him. He had forced his way into the building through the fire exit and then pushed the door back into place so it looked undisturbed. His rifle hidden in his golf bag, he was standing next to the elevator on the sixth floor, looking out of the window towards the north. He had a perfect view over Regent’s Common.
Below him, the white boy was playing keep-ups with a football, using his feet, thighs and head. Lost Bullet could see that he was skilful but it was a pointless talent. Besides, he’d soon be dead. Lost Bullet couldn’t see Harding, but he had little doubt that the investigator was down there somewhere. At first, he hadn’t spotted the Mobile Aid to Law and Crime but occasionally the low sunlight caught something reflective in a laurel bush near the boy with the ball.
Of the three of them, the mobile was the most dangerous. Lost Bullet wanted to put that out of action first. Then, both Harding and the law would be neutralized. Lost Bullet was not going to take pot-shots from the sixth-floor window, though, because it was too far and he did not have all three targets in sight. One good shot might despatch the white youngster but the blast would also be a warning to Luke Harding. The traitor would make a run for it and Lost Bullet would not be able to complete his task. He had a much better plan. He’d worked out how he could get much closer to them but remain completely unseen.
Using the stairs, he limped up to the landing of the top floor – the fourteenth – where he still had a view over the park but he also had access to the loft.
****
Luke had walked around the outside of the tower block. None of the windows had been smashed. There was nothing to suggest a break-in. Malc was scanning continually with every wavelength available to his processor. He had detected five red squirrels, twenty-three birds, one fox, two field mice, a tree-snake and thirteen people. None of the humans matched the description of a male Visionary like Kurt, Reece or Ethan. The boys had been out for two hours and Owen looked bored.