by Nick Jones
‘What happened in the end?’ he asked. ‘How did you get away? How did Jacob steal the Histeridae?’
George nodded, reassuring Nathan that this subject was an acceptable one. He spoke quickly as if scratching an itch somewhere deep and hard to reach. ‘Reyland separated us.’ His front teeth clenched as he uttered the man’s name. ‘Buried me in paperwork and put miles between us. That’s when Jacob used the Histeridae on Reyland without his knowledge.’
‘He used it on Reyland?’
George nodded. ‘We had served our purpose, unlocked the Histeridae and helped create a team of skilled negotiators.’ He rubbed the kitchen surfaces down with aggressive vigour. ‘When Jacob searched Reyland’s mind, it confirmed our suspicions.’
‘You weren’t needed anymore.’
‘Exactly.’ Mohanty sighed. ‘Reyland was going to kill us.’
‘So Jacob stole it?’
‘Yes.’ George had been staring at the floor but he looked up now, eyes ablaze. ‘Jacob stole it and we planned to meet, to run with the Histeridae and never look back.’ He blinked rapidly as the past returned to him. ‘But he didn’t make it.’ He shrugged and smiled, a heartbreaking, defeated gesture. ‘We were going to tell the world, but they killed him. I’ve been hiding ever since.’
The dots joined in Nathan’s mind. The Histeridae, Jameson, Reyland and Baden, all part of a plan to control the politicians and ultimately – with Hibernation – the entire population. Nathan wanted to talk more, was desperate in fact to talk it through, but George was up and busy again. The speed at which he had checked out of their conversation was almost childlike. It was as if George suddenly regretted telling him. He was at the door, pulling on his boots.
‘George, I didn’t mean –’
‘I’m sorry but you can’t stay here.’ George snapped out the words; they were obviously painful to him. ‘The villagers are talking and the mayor wants answers. I’ve managed to stay hidden all these years. If word gets out and they discover who you really are?’ He stopped and stared at the floor again.
‘I understand,’ Nathan said. ‘I will be gone by tomorrow.’
Mohanty nodded. He looked for a while as though he had more to say, but in the end he just sighed and left.
Nathan stood for a long while in silence, eyes tracking slowly around the room. Things had been bad before, he’d been against the wall plenty of times, but in that moment he felt utterly alone. George had asked him – in no uncertain terms – to move on, and Nathan had no idea where to go.
Chapter 9
Nathan awoke the following morning and followed the same routine of remembering and acclimatising. He reached under the bed, grabbed the metal tin and lay for more than an hour, staring at the swirling red glow of the Histeridae.
Initially it had reminded of him of the symbol for infinity, but once he studied it he realised the movement was utterly random, didn’t follow any kind of symmetrical pattern. Instead it danced and coalesced like thousands of tiny stars in a burning constellation, breaking and regrouping again. It was hypnotic. He continued to stare, mouth hanging open slightly, lost in time.
Jennifer Logan was inside. He was sure of it, and every flicker of crimson convinced him further. The glow was her spirit and her voice was calling him.
Bring me home, it seemed to whisper.
Nathan grimaced. ‘I can’t, Jen,’ he whispered. ‘I don’t even know where home is anymore.’
He felt as though the Histeridae was asking him to try again. He could feel its draw, begging him to touch its smooth surface. The muscles in the top of his shoulder twitched, his fingers felt alive with energy. He swallowed and closed his eyes; there was a light show dancing on his retina. For a fleeting moment he imagined it working, touching the device and feeling in control.
He had tried before and each time ended badly –vomiting, nosebleeds and missing hours with no recollection of how he travelled or ended up in certain places. The last time he touched the device he had woken in a park, five miles from where he started. The morning had become late afternoon. A stranger had awakened him with a shout but kept his distance, eyeing Nathan with suspicion. When the passer-by spotted blood, he had suggested calling the police. Nathan assured him he would be okay and manage to find his way home. Back in the safety of his rented apartment he vowed he would never try again. It was just too risky, and that was truer now than ever.
He carefully lowered the Histeridae back into the old metal tin, ensuring his flesh didn’t touch its surface, closed the lid and let out a long sigh.
The clothes he had worn on his arrival had been repaired, washed and neatly folded. He dressed – it felt strange to be wearing them again, like stepping back in time – and was reminded of the hope he arrived with. He had found some answers, reasons for the events that led him here, but what are answers without someone to share them with, someone with whom to plan your next move?
Facts bounced around in his subconscious, occasionally breaking through into his thoughts. The Government had used the Histeridae to push the Hibernation programme through the courts. Once people were hibernating, they had control. He shuddered at the thought of Governments deciding what people ought to believe.
Some might argue that it would align us, stop war and greed. As Nathan stuffed his last few possessions into his bag, he doubted very much that control would ever be used for good.
George was outside, completing chores and feeding his animals. It was a beautiful day in late August. A chorus of birds sang as Nathan approached. George turned, sun dappling his face. A pained expression fell over him as he smacked his hands clean of grain. ‘I wish you could stay, you know.’
Nathan nodded. ‘You were right, though. It’s time. I stayed way longer than I imagined I would.’
George smiled, but there was sadness. ‘Having you here has been a real pleasure. I had gotten out of the habit of company. It’s been a reminder. I’m just sorry…’ He trailed off awkwardly. ‘Even if I wanted to… I can’t…’
Nathan stopped him. ‘I understand.’ In his rucksack, the Histeridae felt heavy as lead. Mohanty was trying to say something but kept stopping, clearly struggling. ‘What is it?’ Nathan asked.
George exhaled loudly. ‘If she is in there, and you find a way to get her out, then you will need her DNA and a replicator.’ He kicked at the dirt with his shoe. ‘It’s a big if, and the chances –’
Nathan stepped closer and placed his hand on Mohanty’s shoulder. ‘It’s okay, George, I know.’
They stood in silence for a while, looking over the hillside.
‘Where will you go?’ Mohanty asked.
‘Back to England.’ Nathan paused a beat. ‘Initially, anyway.’
George nodded but his face fell; he was blinking rapidly and nibbling his bottom lip. Nathan had seen this behaviour before, when he wanted a drink, but it was a little early for that, even for George.
Then he understood. ‘You’re worried about the information on the drive,’ Nathan suggested, carefully.
George looked up. ‘I’ve stayed hidden for a long time,’ he said. ‘They lost interest in me, probably thought I was dead, but my name is all over the Histeridae project files. If you release the data, the world will come looking for me.’
Nathan placed both hands on George’s shoulders. ‘The project files don’t matter anymore, George. They led me to you, but they don’t matter. I will keep them safe, trust me.’
‘And the rest, the proof that Baden and the Government are controlling people?’
‘I will figure it out,’ Nathan said. ‘People aren’t going to care how it started, they are going to care about themselves and what their Government is doing to them.’
George studied him for a while. ‘I hope you’re right,’ he said, before passing him a piece of paper. Nathan opened it, confused.
‘It’s an untraceable mail account,’ George said. ‘I will go into town and check it each week. If you need me, use this and give me a way to contact y
ou. Okay?’
Connectivity was life for most, the easiest thing on the planet, but for people like Nathan and George it was a long-forgotten privilege. Nathan thanked him. Mohanty walked him to the roadside and Nathan stared down at the path he had climbed a month ago.
‘There’s one more thing I need to ask you,’ Nathan said. ‘A woman named Zido Zitagi. Ever heard of her?’
Mohanty looked up, searching his memory. ‘The name rings a bell. One of Reyland’s playthings, hmm?’
Nathan nodded.
Mohanty tried again and frowned. ‘Yes, I think I do remember her. Young recruit, striking, Japanese, yes?’
‘That’s her.’
‘Only saw her once. Why do you ask?’
‘Zitagi and Reyland are all I have left. I need to find them.’
‘Reyland will kill you if you get close.’
Nathan nodded. He knew that all too well.
‘And Nathan.’ Mohanty stepped closer and locked eyes with him. ‘Be careful,’ he whispered. ‘Hope can be a dangerous thing.’
Several replies hovered on Nathan’s lips, but in the end he said nothing. He didn’t want their goodbye to be soured by words that would haunt them both when darkness fell. Nathan lifted his rucksack over his shoulder and looked to a range of mountains in the distance.
George smiled, a warm smile that was pure and kind. ‘Good luck, my friend.’
‘You too.’
Nathan walked away and after a few minutes stopped, glancing back. George raised a hand. Nathan turned and pressed on. The distance was tangible, each step returning him to a world that didn’t care. He wondered if he would see George again, the man the locals called Amars.
He looked back once more, but he was gone.
Chapter 10
London, 2094
(2 years later)
Zido Zitagi paused outside the UN Security Agency Headquarters in London. The feelings that had been creeping through her over the last few months returned.
So, this is what nerves feel like, she mused, this is what everyone talks about.
Zido hadn’t suffered them before and wanted rid of the sensations quickly. She had been aware of a sharpness leaving her, month by month, a constant, dull pressure like a pencil on paper, round and flat at the edges. She had been determined to be ready but knew it was impossible. Intensity isn’t something you can simulate. The only way to remain in the game is to be in the game.
She exhaled purposefully, pushing her fear away on the wind. She entered the building and stepped back into a world she felt she understood, one she belonged in. After being scanned and verified, she paused once more and set her resolve.
The corridors of power were familiar but the faces behind the doors would be less so. Zido had work to do, people to charm and impress. She may have slipped, but she was eager and ready to climb again.
She stopped and checked the time. Early. She decided to get coffee, but as she approached the cafeteria her heart sank a little. Agent Daryll Phillips stood blocking the entrance, beaming his patented smile.
She tipped her head and walked towards him.
‘Welcome back,’ he said, smile fading quickly.
Zitagi gripped his hand tightly. ‘Pleased to see me?’
Phillips ignored the question. ‘You’ve missed some fun round here.’
‘Well,’ she said, calmly, ‘playtime is over now.’
They walked into the busy food hall and stood in a queue of pale faces, all clearly in need of caffeine.
‘So, what’s it like being back?’ Phillips asked with the innocence of a well-versed bully. ‘Pretty nerve-racking, huh?’
Zido eyed him with contempt. ‘I’d say it’s you who should be nervous.’
‘Oh yeah? And why’s that?’
‘Because you’re going to need to keep up.’
Zitagi could feel the room, the eyes on her. People always looked, men in particular, but this was different. A ripple of whispers travelled delicately through the gathering. She could sense the judgement of her peers. Lifting her head, she worked her gaze across the room. Each stare that met hers was burned, each suspicious glance parried with a confident smile.
Agent Phillips, oblivious to it all, observed her. ‘So, when are you seeing the old man?’
‘I have a meeting with Director Reyland this morning.’
His eyes flickered. Blood swelled in his neck and he looked down for a split second.
‘I’ll see you around,’ Zitagi said, taking a sip of her coffee. ‘It’s good to be back.’
Phillips called after her, ‘Enjoy your meeting.’
She raised a hand and walked away.
* * *
Thirty minutes later, Zitagi was on the ninth floor and heading towards meeting room 9C. She was looking forward to seeing Reyland again. She passed two large conference rooms and then, for the second time that day, felt her heart drop.
Phillips and Reyland were stood in the hallway ahead. A gathering of ten or so agents, smartly dressed and engaged in conversation, were being ushered through double doors into a meeting room. This was no one-to-one meeting after all. Phillips grinned as she approached. Reyland ignored her and entered the room, leaving the two of them in the now-empty corridor.
Phillips narrowed his eyebrows and stared at her. His lips were thin and pared back against his teeth. ‘Things have changed around here, and you had better get used to it quickly.’ He grinned. ‘I’m running this team and you need to understand your place.’
Zitagi stepped closer to him, pushing through the bitter odour of his coffee-tinged breath, and replied softly, ‘I understand, Agent Phillips, and you can expect my full support.’
He looked disarmed by her calmness and scowled. ‘If I were you I would be very careful.’
Zitagi smiled, nodded and assured him she would be, her demeanour cool and under control. Inside, though, her blood was on the rise. She found herself mourning the years that had been stolen from her, the drudging monotony of border control, the pointless investigations and endless convictions. Phillips might be right after all. She had missed a great deal.
The circular room had theatre-style seating. She found a seat and searched out Reyland. He was standing at the front, next to a lectern. He was joined by Phillips and the room fell silent.
When Reyland spoke, his voice was strong and controlled. ‘Good morning,’ he said. ‘We have a lot to get through so I’ll keep this brief. Agent Phillips will be taking you through your various assignments.’ Phillips stared at Zitagi, smugness emanating from him. Reyland continued; his eyes passed over her quickly but he didn’t acknowledge her presence. ‘First I wanted to share something with you. Something I think you need to see.’
Behind him, a bank of tiny projectors lit up and displayed a holographic representation of the planet; blue and green lines flickered and rotated as detailed statistics appeared.
‘These numbers will be of no surprise to you,’ Reyland said, ‘but they are staggering when you consider how far we have come in such a short time.’ He paused and highlighted the details. ‘We are at a positive tipping point. Global population is approaching twelve billion and nine billion of those are within UN safe zones. With the last cycle, we reached our Hibernation target of ninety percent.’
That’s over four billion souls in Hibernation at any one time, Zido thought.
A murmur went through the room. It was no secret, but somehow hearing it officially from Victor Reyland gave it a certain weight, a gravitas.
‘You know how important this programme is,’ he continued. ‘With every successful Hibernation cycle our planet is repairing itself.’ He eyed the room, seeking out everyone, it seemed, except her. ‘It is our job to protect Hibernation, at all costs. We know that while these people sleep, terrorism busies itself.’ His voice dropped to a deeper, more thoughtful tone. ‘There are those who have tried to derail progress, attempted to stop the programme, claimed that warming was natural, that mankind needed to find other wa
ys. Hell, there’s a hundred crackpot ideas and Hibernation conspiracy theories out there; trust me, I’ve heard them all.’
A ripple of controlled laughter disseminated through the room but hushed quickly when Reyland continued.
‘It isn’t getting any better. The hit on our Hibernation centre in Luxembourg nearly ten months ago is still causing problems. We can’t afford another one. We have the protest rally coming up, new openings and a re-election to consider. I want you to stay focussed.’ He paused, jaw set. ‘Hibernation is all that matters.’
Victor Reyland stared at the room. His style was calm and authoritative; it left no room for interpretation. Zitagi was reminded of her first meeting with him. He hadn’t wavered in all the years she’d known him. Reyland gestured to Phillips, who continued the briefing. It lasted another hour.
During that time, Phillips’s voice threatened to burst Zitagi’s ears wide open, his condescending tone ripping at her insides, but she remained cool. When Phillips mentioned her, he did so quickly, ensuring her presence was considered by the group to be insignificant. As time passed Zido realised she wasn’t going to receive any orders, not even a basic case to warm her engines. By the time the briefing ended she was left wondering how she might fill the rest of her morning. As the lights went up and the group vacated the room her sense of purpose evaded her.
Had Phillips really just won the first round?
She stared at the screen, at a world with a lot fewer humans draining resources. Hibernation. It was smart, innovative. People had always been the problem. They were greedy and hungry and forever advancing. Rather than change human behaviour – Zido knew that to be impossible – why not just reduce the number of people doing it at once? She stood and sighed; it was clever, all right.
Reyland walked back into the room and Zido felt her face flush. He looked at her, this time connecting fully.
‘Follow me,’ he said, the smallest hint of a smile visible before he turned.