by Nick Jones
‘I saw bodies piled high,’ Paul said, ‘stretched out for what seemed like miles, and I remember thinking, What the hell have we done? I mean to get to that point. I saw unimaginable horror and was convinced, after it all, that we would fight back and solve this.’ He stood and slowly walked the steps next to the altar. It looked to Nathan as though he was about to begin another sermon, except this one seemed genuine, unrehearsed and passionate. ‘And what did we do?’ he whispered. ‘We built walls and started shooting. I saw it with my own eyes, Nathan, innocent men, women and children mowed down in cold blood.’
Nathan sighed. ‘It was terrible, but something had to be done. It would have spread to us all. You know that, right?’
‘I do,’ Paul sighed, his anger obvious but not directed at Nathan. ‘It’s not how we contained the flu that keeps me awake at night. It’s what we did afterwards. It’s Hibernation.’ Paul stared at his feet, head shaking. ‘I started out as a photographer, but to do that job well, you have to remain impartial. I took images of war, of terrorism, flooding, mass rioting, shootings, and the only way I could cope was to separate myself from the horror. But, in the end, I couldn’t. I stepped over the line and then there is no going back. When I started to ask questions, they asked questions of their own.’
‘Who?’
Paul smiled, a vacuous grin. ‘A few years ago I might have answered that question with the Government. Now, I don’t know what you would call them. I guess just the ones in charge.’
He unbuttoned the front of his black robe and lifted the T-shirt beneath, exposing his midriff. There were a number of scars, like raised white etchings of barbed wire. Taser marks. Nathan had seen plenty on his travels.
‘I learnt the hard way,’ Paul said, ‘that if you want to fight you keep your mouth shut.’
‘And what about your mind?’ Nathan asked. ‘Difficult to keep that shut.’
The priest smiled. ‘It is, but we have our ways and means.’ He stepped down and faced Nathan. ‘I’ve told you a lot about me. I want to know what you are looking for. Is this all about finding your wife’s killer?’
Nathan considered telling him about Jen. Part of him wondered if the priest already knew about her. In the end he said, somewhat lamely, ‘I’m similar to you, I guess, I want to know what’s really going on.’
‘They put stuff in - during Hibernation, I mean,’ Paul said. ‘Did you know that?’
‘Yes.’ Nathan rubbed his hands, warming them. ‘You said there are more of you.’
Paul tightened his stare. ‘You’re an interesting one all right. Had a feeling about you and these days I trust that more than anything else.’ He stood and began to extinguish the tall, wax candles surrounding them. ‘Yes, there are more of us. We started out as a small resistance group but now there are thousands of us dotted around the globe, building and growing stronger.’
‘A resistance group?’ Nathan couldn’t help but smile. ‘But how? How can you say on one hand that Hibernation is controlling us, and then on the other talk about a growing resistance? Surely they would know?’ Nathan was aware of his use of they. It reminded him of conversations he and Jen had shared, years back, yet still fresh in his mind.
‘Trust is no longer earned, I’m afraid,’ Paul said. ‘It is tested and then protected at all costs. If you decide to join us, you will be scanned, like the rest.’
‘You think you can scan for trust?’ Nathan smirked.
‘Not always, but you can scan for tampering, and that’s what I really need to know.’ He tapped the side of head. ‘Have they got to you first? Does it go deep? Because if they have, there’s no going back. We’ve learnt how to protect people during the Hibernation cycles, but it’s getting worse.’
‘How do you mean?’
Paul extinguished the last of the candles. The only remaining light was the glow of the heater and the dim overhead fluorescents. His face was cut by deep shadows. ‘The last two cycles have been stronger, the persuasion deeper. They’re making sure we don’t snap out of it, that we don’t wake up.’ He paused and sighed heavily. ‘Something is about to happen and they’re determined we don’t see it coming.’
Nathan didn’t know how to respond. Paul Bendiksen managed to say everything with conviction, seemed to have his own unique ability to increase persuasion.
The confusion and random imagery of earlier had passed, but Nathan’s mind was filled with new information and he was struggling to make sense of it all. He was reminded of his first meeting with Jen and how she had seemed to be working at a different pace to everyone and everything else. He missed her more than ever, wished she was with him, planning their next move.
Paul placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled warmly. ‘She would be proud of you.’
Nathan nodded.
Paul walked the aisle and Nathan followed until they stood facing each other by the tall front doors of the church. ‘I’m worried about you,’ Paul said. ‘You need to look after yourself.’ Nathan shrugged, embarrassed, but Paul continued. ‘It isn’t much and I wish I could do more, but I’ve arranged a place for you to stay, just for a while, to help you get back on your feet.’
‘Why would you do that?’ Nathan didn’t want to meet his stare.
‘Because I want to help you.’
‘And then I join your group,’ he replied, looking up. ‘Is that how it works?’
‘Maybe,’ Paul said carefully. ‘But that’s up to you.’
Nathan scratched at his hair, which was unkempt and greasy. ‘It’s been a long time since someone has shown me any kindness. It’s hard to trust anyone.’
‘I understand, but know this. We can help each other long-term. Don’t ask me how, but I feel very strongly that we were supposed to meet.’
Nathan knew what he meant. The void since Jen’s death had been absent of those feelings, but they returned that night. Fate did seem to be at play; whether he believed in it or not, something was drawing them together.
They left the church and walked in silence to Nathan’s temporary new home. Nathan could feel sleep tugging at him with each nod of his head, but something stopped him from drifting off, something Paul had said.
She would be proud of you.
Nathan had presumed Paul meant his wife, but now wasn’t so sure. He looked over at the priest who was concentrating, weaving through traffic. How much did Paul know? Did he know about Jen and the vault, maybe even the Histeridae?
For what felt like the thousandth time Nathan imagined what it would be like to use the device. If he could, he would be searching now, sorting through Paul’s inner thoughts for the truth.
It didn’t matter, though. He would never have the gift; the Histeridae would remain a dormant weapon, like a fusion missile in a dusty old silo, an impotent reminder of a war that never came.
Chapter 26
Later that evening, Paul was alone. He was clearing up his dinner things and planning his evening when he was interrupted by a knock at the door. He reached up inside a small cupboard above the sink and pulled out a pistol. He cocked it, the low whine of a pulse round humming through his hand. Nathan’s unexpected arrival had accelerated plans and set certain things in motion. He needed to be careful.
‘Coming,’ he called out and walked to the door. He tapped a small panel, which flickered into life and displayed Alex stood in his hallway.
Paul keyed numbers into the panel, pulled back a large bolt and opened the door. Alex slipped inside.
‘Just you?’ Paul asked.
‘Yes.’ Alex’s eyes shot around the room. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t call.’
Paul closed the door. Visits at his home were unusual. Most of the group didn’t even know where he lived. It was safer that way. Alex was different, though. Paul had known him for over two years, had helped protect him and Pascale from the Hibernation searches. In return they had remained in the safe zone and been useful to him.
‘It’s okay,’ Paul said. ‘Come and sit down, I’ll fix us a drink.�
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‘Thank you,’ Alex said, his voice unsteady. ‘I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t, you know, important.’
‘I understand.’ Paul smiled and tried to reassure him. ‘Do you want tea?’
‘Got something a little stronger?’
‘So it’s that kind of talk.’
Alex nodded and Paul went to the kitchen. He grabbed two glasses and after some exploration found what he was looking for; a half-decent bottle of scotch. He joined Alex in the living room and handed him a glass.
‘So,’ Paul said. ‘What brings you out here tonight?’
Alex took a sip of the whiskey and winced. He looked up and managed a smile. ‘Pascale.’
‘Okay.’
Alex stared at the floor. ‘She’s pregnant.’
Paul took a slug of whiskey and paused. When he spoke his tone was fatherly and gentle. ‘Have you told anyone else?’
‘No,’ Alex said, eyes still down.
‘Good.’ Paul sighed. ‘Good lad for coming to me first.’
‘She plans to keep it.’
‘Of course she does.’
‘What does that mean?’ Alex snapped.
‘It’s Pascale,’ Paul said gently. ‘That’s all I mean. She’s strong-minded, her heart rules her life.’ He sighed again. ‘It’s not a bad way to be. All I’m saying is I’m not surprised.’
And he wasn’t. Pascale Gilbert had many qualities, she was kind, considerate and fiercely loyal - a tough, determined woman. She also had a power over Alex. He would do anything for her, and although Paul suspected she wouldn’t abuse that influence, it was power nonetheless.
‘We need a permit,’ Alex said, rubbing his eyes. ‘We need to fast-track it, Paul, or we lose the baby.’
‘Do you feel the same?’
‘What?’
‘About keeping it,’ Paul said, firmly. ‘Do you feel the same as her?’
‘Of course.’ Alex pulled back slightly. ‘Why wouldn’t I?’
‘It’s not unusual for a man of your age to be nervous, unsure, maybe.’
Alex sighed and scratched his chin. ‘Yeah. I mean, I’m scared, but it’s Pascale. She’s all I’ve ever wanted, Paul, and now we’re going to bring a life into the world together.’ He held Paul’s stare.
Paul nodded. ‘I understand.’
‘Can you help us?’
‘I will try, of course, but we need to be very, very careful.’
‘Can you get a permit?’
‘No, it’s too late for that,’ Paul said. ‘They are getting tougher by the month. If the timing had been different we might have had a chance, I could have pulled a few strings maybe.’ Paul shook his head, ‘Now, though, the routine checks will pick it up easily. It won’t work.’
‘Then what the hell do we do?’ Alex’s voice was rising.
‘We stay calm.’
Alex let out a long breath, one that seemed to have been trapped since his arrival and stared off into the distance. Paul knew exactly what needed to happen but wasn’t sure where to start. How do you tell a kid – and that’s all Alex was, really – that his whole life was about to turn upside down, that everything he knew would soon be gone?
He thought back to when they had first met. Alex and Pascale had attended church and then talked to him afterwards. The subject of the conversations – like many Paul had experienced over the years – gradually shifted as the weeks went on. They were worried they were being watched, knew something wasn’t right.
Hibernation cycles did that to some, created a sense of paranoia. It was lucky, Paul thought, it gave some a chance to break free from its poisonous grip. As time had gone on he’d managed to help protect them, and in return they had provided the odd bit of information or made a delivery - small stuff. Mainly though, they had helped others like them – new joiners, confused and lost – become part of their group. Paul wondered how well they would adjust to a new life.
‘Paul,’ Alex whispered, as if reading his mind. ‘What’s going to happen to us?’
‘They’ve increased the persuasion during cycles. You felt it the last time you hibernated, and we’re struggling to keep up. You won’t make it through another one.’
‘We guessed as much,’ Alex said. ‘I knew we might have to run.’
‘Yes,’ Paul agreed solemnly, ‘and soon.’ He poured them both another drink. It was going to be one of those nights. ‘Something’s happened, Alex. Something I can’t really explain.’
‘Try me,’ Alex said, eyes swimming a little.
‘Yes. Okay.’ Paul smiled and took a sip of whiskey. ‘I’ve known for some time that all of this would come to a head. Trust me when I say I don’t say this lightly, we’re at war, Alex – but it’s not like any war we’ve fought before. This is a war of ignorance and lies and it needs to be fought one mind at a time.’
‘You said something had happened?’
‘It’s hard to explain, but I knew someone would come. Someone who would start a chain of events, light the fuse.’ He paused and looked around, eyes alive with distant thoughts. ‘And that someone has arrived, the most unlikely of men, in fact.’
‘You should be careful, you sound like a real priest,’ Alex said, but there was no humour in his voice, just a dark cynicism that Paul hadn’t heard before.
‘Alex,’ Paul said, re-focussing his attention. ‘I haven’t told you how strong we’ve become.’
‘You mean the group?’
‘Yes. I wasn’t going to tell you so soon, but with the Hibernation cycles, and now Pascale…’ He pursed his lips in thought.
‘Just tell me.’
‘When I travel to the outer zones and far into the reaches, I recruit others. We have a number of camps and a base in Dubai. We’re making plans.’
‘With the guy you just mentioned?’
‘It’s early days with him, but yes, he’s given me something we can use, something we needed to hit back, information we can use to wake people up.’ Alex was shaking his head. ‘What’s wrong?’ Paul asked.
‘I don’t understand what this has to do with me, with Pascale and the baby.’
‘It has everything to do with you,’ Paul shot back. ‘He’s coming with me to Dubai in a week’s time; I’m getting him out of here.’
‘I still don’t understand what that has to do with us?’
Paul stared at him and waited as the wheels in Alex’s mind finally caught up and his eyes widened. ‘My God, you want us to come too?’
Paul shook his head. ‘It’s not about want, Alex.’ He checked himself and lowered his voice again. ‘Forgetting, just for a moment, that Pascale is pregnant, if you hibernate again, the protection I have given you up until now won’t work. The new persuasion routines are too strong, and they will know everything.’ He sighed and placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder. ‘I can’t keep you safe anymore.’
‘But how will I tell Pascale?’
‘You tell her that you persuaded me to get you across the border, that she is going to be safe, that you are going to look after her. You tell her you’re going to build a new life, far away from the bondage of the mind-fuckers that currently rule over you. You tell her you’re going to be free.’
Chapter 27
Zitagi instructed her driver to stop, stepped out onto Fulton Street and waited. Ahead was the entrance to the Conservatory of Flowers, framed on either side by beautifully maintained gardens and bordered by palm trees that looked a little fake, like a strange tribute to India.
She noticed the two men immediately.
They were doing their best to look natural. The problem for them was that their natural was unlike any of the other people moving easily around the large park.
Zitagi pretended not to notice them. The men walked in her direction. Their age, tightly cropped hair and overall demeanour suggested years spent years in Government, now personal security for hire.
‘Good afternoon, Ms Zitagi,’ one of them said. ‘Mr Jameson requested that we escort you.’
> Zitagi smiled, removing her large sunglasses. ‘Very well.’ She gestured towards the Conservatory. ‘Shall we?’
‘No,’ the other man said. ‘Mr Jameson is waiting for us over there.’ He nodded to her right.
Zitagi saw Jameson, dressed casually in a short-sleeved polo shirt and trousers, standing next to a long stretch limousine. He raised his hand as she approached, the guards at her side.
Scanning in public wasn’t common, but it also wasn’t enough to attract any real attention. One of the guards took a small scanner from his jacket, asked her to stand still and waved the handheld device the length of her torso.
Zitagi stared at Jameson. ‘Is this really necessary?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
The scan returned a negative on augmentation, weaponry and communications and Jameson’s men seemed satisfied. Jameson finally smiled. He held out his hand and Zitagi took it, shaking gently, eyes locked. ‘I’m being overly cautious,’ he said, ‘but I was hoping we could have our discussion in the car.’
The two guards disappeared into the front cabin of the limo.
‘Has something happened?’ Zitagi asked.
‘Please,’ Jameson said, ignoring her question. ‘This is better.’ He waved his hand near the rear door and it slid open with a low whine.
‘I don’t know what –’
‘I’m taking you somewhere we can talk, somewhere safe.’
Zitagi knew it was pointless to protest further. She ducked down and entered the car, closely followed by Jameson.
Engines whirred and then roared into life. Zitagi felt her stomach drop as the limo lifted gracefully from the ground, rotated twenty degrees to face north and then rose quickly.
They broke through a layer of mist hanging over the bay and flew at speed across the city. Jameson stared out of the window, his back turned, and she realised he wasn’t planning to talk – not yet, anyway. The sun, a bright golden penny in the sky, shone through the glass, moving thick shadows across them. Like karma, Zitagi thought as she began calculating the multitude of possible scenarios and outcomes.