The Infinity Mainframe (Tombs Rising Book 3)

by Robert Scott-Norton

  Was it any wonder, Ruby thought, that those who lived in the habitats were so feared? So scorned. But, society needed cross-sections to blame their troubles on. If it wasn’t the immigrants, it was the telepaths, if it wasn’t the telepaths, it was the habitats.

  Ruby had taken some care in her outfit this evening. The smart trouser suit she’d been wearing all day had been hung up in her bedroom and she’d seized a t-shirt and jeans instead. Over her shoulder, she’d slung a simple bag containing Nikoli’s diary and a few precautionary items she was unlicensed for whilst off-duty. After trying unsuccessfully to bypass the echo lock she’d had time to ponder on the potentially useful source of information in her possession. Nikoli had entrusted it to her and since his death she’d seen the feeds from the Arts Centre wiped, and a stranger come forward claiming to work with Nikoli. If someone cared enough to wipe the conversation between Devan and Nikoli, they wouldn’t be too keen on his diary being out in the open. Ruby had decided that until she knew what was inside the thing, she wasn’t prepared to let it out of her sight.

  She patted the bag and nonchalantly took tight hold of the shoulder strap.

  As soon as Mum died, Ruby had told Dad he could move in with her but he’d refused. The mental deterioration he was suffering from hadn’t eaten away at his pride yet.

  The sun was still brilliant but low in the sky, and she shielded her hand over her eyes as she took in the full grandeur of the development. Home to ten thousand people. Incredible. Obscene, but incredible none-the-less.

  Inside the main entrance, a group of middle-aged men loitered about the foyer, setting the world to rights over home-brewed beer and rolled up cigarettes. God only knew what plant they were growing in these places to smoke. Tobacco had been impossible to get into the UK for fifty years. But, people would always find a way to get their fixes. Two men eyed her warily as she walked to the lifts. She kept her head low and ambled along, determined not to look like anyone who didn’t belong. They returned to their smoking, ignoring her.

  The habitat block had been printed upwards in sections by industrial building printers, leaving a central shaft open to the elements and whatever light could penetrate ninety odd floors. Even with the designers’ best intentions, the place felt gloomy and swamped in shadows.

  The elevators stunk of chemicals that she assumed kept the interior metal cage clean but burnt at the back of her nose. She felt like gulping for air as she stepped out onto the eighteenth floor and walked around the balcony to Dad’s flat. She unlocked the door with her HALO and with a click the lock released. She pushed the door open.

  The place wasn’t as untidy as she’d seen it before. Dad had little and usually managed to put stuff back in whatever cupboard he’d taken it from. She walked around the small apartment, looking for problem areas, then checking the front door was locked and bolted, she placed her bag on the table in the lounge.

  Several dirty plates had been abandoned by the kitchen sink, so she filled the bowl with hot water and cleaned up. From the kitchen window, she could look out onto the Southport skyline. If there was one good thing about this place, it was the view. Dad had gotten especially lucky with an uninterrupted view across the Irish Sea. From here she could see the fracking stations, and the enforcement platforms, home bases for the perimeter drones. As she squinted, she could make out the glint of sunlight on a new patrol group heading northward along the coast. She closed the blinds.

  She glanced back into the lounge and reassured herself that her bag hadn’t moved before checking the bedroom. The bed hadn’t been made. Not surprising. Dad had left a stale glass of water beside his bed and as she moved to pick it up, she couldn’t help but peek in the slightly opened drawer of the bedside table. Dad’s bible lay inside. It had been months since she’d last seen it. Religion was not a topic she ever wanted to dwell on with Dad. Mum had been a staunch atheist against her dad’s wishes and whilst they were both together, he’d put his religion to one side. Ruby had only been brought up with a passing reference to religion, the Church of England having long lost any of its former significance. With the expulsion of the royals and no head of the church, many decided that religion simply didn’t bear any significance on their way of life. But since Mum’s death, Dad had found it unnecessary to hide his beliefs.

  Inside the bible, a personal inscription from the church’s leader, Josalyn Koma, thanking Dad for all his support over the years. She dropped the book back into the drawer and slammed it shut. Josalyn sure as hell wasn’t living in any habitat block. Ruby had driven past Josalyn’s luxury house in Formby but had so far resisted the urge to stop and ring the buzzer at the gates. Josalyn Koma was a problem for another day.

  With an uneasy tremble in her chest, Ruby went to the linen cupboard and grabbed a bunch of new sheets. After making the bed, her HALO buzzed, and she checked for new messages. Fin wanted to know where she was. She sent a return message, telling him to meet her back at the flat.

  As she sat and pondered the mound of dirty linen and Nikoli’s diary stone, an idea came to her. She bundled the sheets in her arms and carried them to the wash basket in the bathroom. From her bag she plucked out Nikoli’s diary, feeling the cool stone in her hands as she turned it around and inspected it for the fiftieth time today. The police would probably have more luck in breaking the security than she would but that would mean letting them know what she had. Ruby wiped her sweaty hands on her jeans and took the stone with her to the bathroom. Hastily, she tipped the contents of the laundry basket on the floor and dropped Nikoli’s diary at the bottom. She glared at it for a moment, daring it to unlock, before covering it up with the dirty laundry and the replaced bed linen.

  Feeling a surprising lightness to her step, she locked the apartment door, checked it twice and tried to put the diary from her mind.

  *

  Fin was waiting outside when she got home.

  “You’ve got a key,” she said, coming in for a hug.

  “I wanted to wait.” He smelt of the aftershave she’d bought him for his birthday. His grip was tight and uncompromising. The arguments melted away, and she closed her eyes, remembering those first few early months of dating when they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered close to her ear.

  She withdrew, smiling sadly, then opened the door. They had to work their way past the bikes in the communal hall, left by their downstairs neighbour.

  Upstairs, she made Fin wait on the small landing, whilst she went in and quickly tidied up. The place was considerably worse than Dad’s, but she did her best at shoving the plates in the sink and picking up items of clothing from the floor. She idly considered whether to make her bed, then tutted at herself and closed the bedroom door instead.

  “You hiding someone in there,” Fin said.

  She playfully punched his arm and followed him into the lounge. “Drink?”

  “What you having?”

  “Tea.”

  “Then I’ll make them.” He wandered off into the kitchen.

  “I haven’t had a chance to do the dishes yet,” she shouted through the open doorway.

  “Yeah, I get that,” he replied. “I’ll do them while the kettle’s boiling.”

  Ruby couldn’t be bothered to argue and instead kicked her shoes off and collapsed on the couch, curling her feet under her. These were the moments she missed. The simple things. Nothing so ordinary as someone making you a brew. She listened to the sink filling up, then the kettle boiling, and five minutes later, Fin returned, mugs of tea in his hands.

  “Crappy day, huh?”

  “Yeah, crappy.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

  Fin sat down next to her and teased out her legs, placing them in his lap before kneading her feet with his hands. “Start with the easy stuff. How’s your dad?”

  She started with the meeting she’d had with the doctor that morning and kept nothing back. Aft
er she’d finished, Fin was looking at her with a curious expression.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. I’d only just grown used to the idea that he had Alzheimer’s but to suggest it’s something else… What does your dad think?”

  “I haven’t mentioned it to him.”

  “You can’t keep that from him.”

  “They’re suggesting it’s got something to do with telepaths. How do I even broach that?”

  “You ask.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “It could be.”

  She pulled her feet up and away from him. “Enough,” she said.

  He looked sheepish but put his hands by his sides. “You’re not going to find out what’s happened to your dad by ignoring it. Ask him if he’s ever worked in D27. Ask him what contact he’s had with telepaths.”

  She shook her head. “Half the time he doesn’t remember my name, or even that I’m his daughter. He thinks I’m a carer sent by the hospital or worse yet, someone sent from the church. Trying to drag through what’s left of his memories will send him and me insane.”

  “I’ll talk to him.”

  Ruby stopped talking and waited for her brain to kick in with a good reason why Fin should stay well alone. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because he’s your dad, and you need my help.”

  “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

  “You didn’t ask. I offered. Why don’t I take him home for you? He’s out of the unit tomorrow, isn’t he? I’ll take him home and see what he wants to talk about.”

  Ruby couldn’t think of anything to say. Eventually, she twisted around on the sofa and leant in to give her ex a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.”

  9:45 PM

  This was stupid.

  Ruby pulled up her hoodie and felt comforted by the material against her face. The comfort was a double-edged sword, though. On the one hand, it helped hide her identity, but that came at a cost of losing a lot of her peripheral vision and a diminished sense of hearing. On balance, it would be better to not be seen as a target, avoid any confrontation.

  Fin had wanted to stay the night but she’d refused. He’d have asked too many questions about her going out so late.

  Candice had told her that Nikoli had come here to get tailored blocking patterns. Something he’d believed to be better than anything the DRT could provide. If that was true, then whoever provided the patterns would have had contact with Nikoli and may even have had a peek inside his head. It was a tiny lead, but a lead nonetheless.

  Ruby dug her hands into her pockets as she approached the end of Market Street. The chill wind brushed under her hood and sent a shiver racing down her back. Her eyes had adjusted well to the gloomy light, and her senses, heightened by the adrenaline washing through her system, helped pick out the moving shadows around the edge of the Victorian building that was the old market hall. A faint hum approached from her right, and she stepped under the awning of a Chinese restaurant and waited until the drone passed by. She hurried across the street to the market entrance. The main doors were locked—of course they were—this main building hadn't been opened in twenty years. The market had moved into the basement area that had once been used to house traders’ stock. This was where she was planning on going.

  Ruby held the gulp of trepidation back in her throat as she pulled open the side entrance doors. At once, she was hit with the noise of voices and sharp music playing from somewhere beneath her. And the smells—there were strange aromas of cooking food and spices like a base layer that coated everything.

  A man hurried up the stairs as she started her way down, knocking into her in his eagerness to escape the bowels of the market. His red eyes caught hers beneath her hood, and he quickly looked away. “Excuse me,” he muttered, and then he was gone.

  The dim light came from a chain of improvised bulbs hanging from nails banged into the wall at seemingly random intervals. The dust and spices got into her throat and made her want to cough. Once at the bottom, she pulled open a set of double doors, frowning at the grime that came away on her hand, and stepped inside.

  Brighter lights illuminated the basement; colours and smells hit her senses. Stalls had been erected all around the space, booths built into the gaps between supporting pillars like they'd oozed out from the walls. Smoke from those stalls selling food clung to the ceiling in a smoky haze, rolling across her vision like phantoms patrolling their tomb. Stall holders were busy chatting to each other and to the drifting trickle of customers who were their lifeblood. As she headed down the first aisle to her left, she tried to imagine Nikoli coming down here on his own.

  “You look lost, love. Want me to show you around?” A short balding man spoke from behind a counter. The shelves behind him were filled with bottles with labels she recognised from the shops above. She wondered how many of them actually contained what they purported.

  “No, I'm fine, thanks,” she replied and walked past the man’s stall. Her hand felt the comforting shape of the knife in her pocket; insurance in case things turned ugly.

  She walked along the aisle, glancing up at the signs and the vendors. Although some were chatting to their neighbours, many were sitting on stools at the back of their booths, away from the lights, cloaked in shadows. E-cig tips glowed from these darkened chambers, and she thought about all these sets of eyes staring at her as she walked through this maze.

  How in the hell was she supposed to find what she needed if she wasn't prepared to even engage with these people?

  She turned the corner and walked headlong into a trio of girls.

  “Watch out!” The tallest of the three said under her breath, and then, just loud enough for Ruby to hear, the shortest of the group mumbled “bitch”, before all three turned around the corner and drifted out of sight.

  Suddenly, the low ceiling seemed to press down on her, and she glanced back the way she'd come, trying to keep in her head a path to the exit.

  An older woman, perhaps in her seventies, although in this gloom it was hard to tell, touched her arm as she passed her stall. She’d reached out across her counter, her wrinkly arm revealing itself from under her evening gown. Despite the woman’s eccentric appearance, strings of beads and scarfs around her scrawny neck, silver bangles on her wrist, she blended in perfectly with her environment.

  “It's not safe to venture down here alone. Not on your first time, anyway.” Her accent was bland and indistinct like she'd taken great pains to hide what district she originally came from.

  “I'm not alone,” Ruby said, wishing that her mouth hadn't gotten so dry. If she looked as nervous as she felt, she would be at the mercy of these people. Still with her hands in her pockets, she rubbed her finger against her HALO, knowing that if she ever got to the point where she needed help, it would most likely be too late to do anything about it.

  “You knew Nikoli Wei,” the woman said, her voice low.

  Then Ruby realised that the touch on her arm had been more to do with peeking inside her head.

  “Breaking the code?”

  A smile danced on her lips, then it was gone. “Are you going to report me?”

  Ruby glanced at the items the woman kept on the shelf behind the counter. A glass unicorn took pride of place in the centre, a delicate piece that seemed to glow with an inner fire; for a moment, Ruby found it difficult to take her eyes from it. The woman beckoned her closer, then took hold of Ruby's hand. Ruby wanted to pull away, but she stood entranced by the stall holder.

  “Nikoli was a regular. He liked to come later than this, though. It was rare that I'd see him before I was ready to shut up shop.”

  “You sold him blocking patterns?”

  “The best.”

  Ruby pulled her hand away and remembered the conversation she'd watched between Devan Oster and Nikoli at the Arts Centre. Resentment flashed through her mind. Resentment at the trader for giving Nikoli the false confidence that he was protected from the tel
epaths at OsMiTech.

  But as quickly as the emotion appeared, it faded again.

  “You're a telepath,” Ruby whispered. “You're unregistered.” The words were out of her mouth before she realised how dumb that sounded.

  But the trader merely smiled. “OsMiTech doesn’t assign teeps to work in black markets. Of course, I'm not registered, but you don't need to whisper. There are far worse things to be ashamed of than being unregistered.”

  “But aren't you worried that—”

  “That someone will report me?” She laughed at that. A polite laugh. Assured. “Are you that someone?”

  Ruby shook her head. “I'm trying to find out about Nikoli.”

  The lady’s smile vanished. “I heard he was murdered. Were you a friend?”

  “We'd known each other a while.”

  “And what do you think I can help you with? He kept himself to himself.”

  Another customer wandered close to the stall. Ruby glanced at the man who'd taken an interest in her conversation and she hesitated, waiting for him to pass. “I only found out recently he was a telepath. He kept it hidden.”

  “Nikoli didn't want to sign up with OsMiTech. He hated that place.”

  “Did he tell you as much?”

  “Do you understand much about blocking patterns?” she said patiently, then without waiting for a response, she continued. “Of course, you must know something, after all, you're using one right now. Grade C?”

  Ruby hadn't even realised she was pattern cycling.

  “Grade B.”

  The same knowing smile appeared on the lady’s lips. “If you say so.”

  “I want to find out who killed Nikoli.”

  “Surely, you should leave that to the police.”

  The trader pulled out a bottle of an orange spirit from under her counter and placed two tumblers on the counter. Without bothering to ask, the lady poured a shot in each. She nudged one with the edge of her finger to Ruby.

  “You can call me Aura.” Both women picked up their glasses and Ruby sipped at hers. Aura downed hers and poured a second shot. “This is sad. Nikoli was a good man, he just wanted to be left alone.”