by Ian Williams
With the room almost silent and still, Anthony slowly stepped down from his podium and then wandered into the centre of the holographic cube. He held his hands together and rested them against his stomach as he peered through the fog of lettering now hanging in front of him. While the crowd watched he began to reach for segments that flew by him.
By now Phoenix had become completely engrossed and strived to find the room to see. First she tested the resolve of those lining the back, to see if she could prise them apart enough to squeeze through. When they refused to budge, she then resorted to walking toward the front and standing next to the podium. The space was there. She still had to lean around the crowd to see fully.
Anthony began to pluck lines of code from the air and toss them aside. With each piece he cleared space for even more to appear. Quickly he made headway with a few of the larger segments, clearing the cube of most of the clutter in only a few moves. He continued until the remaining code comprised of less than twenty separate lines of letters, all swimming happily around the glowing cube. There was nothing unusual about these left-overs, yet they were what Anthony had performed the entire show to find.
“Here,” Anthony said, beckoning one of his faithful parishioners into the centre of the cube with him. “Hold it, feel it.”
The woman, mid to late thirties with a head of long white hair tinted with a silvery sheen, looked to Anthony with a naivety that demonstrated her willingness to believe whatever he was to say to her.
“This is Isaac,” he continued, while the woman beamed the smile of ignorance. “When this is reabsorbed it will become him. When you dream of Isaac -” He said turning back to the rest of the crowd. “- you are speaking to him. In his state of sleep, he can communicate with you. This is the power Isaac has always had. When those who tried to destroy him are kneeling before him, only then will they see the true extent of his will. These past twelve years, he has waited for those of us who are strong enough of mind and loyalty to guide him forth. We will be the ones to bring him back.”
To the woman’s surprise Anthony snatched the code segment from her and held it aloft, like he were offering it to the heavens above. Then like a magic trick, he clapped his hands together to remove the code from existence. When he parted them again the code had transformed into a glowing orb that hovered contently, while he continued to perform the same trick on the other segments. When none remained the entire holographic display vanished, leaving Anthony standing in the middle of the crowd with small objects surrounding him like flittering fairies.
“Join me in returning these fragments to Isaac,” he said.
In her new position, Phoenix could see the scene perfectly and was again impressed by Anthony. His formidable authority sent her mind into a confused frenzy. Here stood a man, who only hours earlier had reduced another person to a bloodied wreck, now performing to an audience who adored him.
The only way she could reconcile each version of her boss was to apply a degree of logic. Therefore, he was not some messenger sent forth by a divine intelligence, but an expert manipulator. People, then, were nothing more than tools to be used and worked until broken. At which point he would throw them away and find more. The creation of an odd belief system was his chosen method of controlling and shaping those he planned on using. But for what purpose? Strangely, Phoenix had never really considered this before.
Her moment of clarity was shaken by an unexpected cheer from the crowd around her. Not knowing what had sparked their sudden happiness, she stepped back and kept her lack of understanding away from suspicious eyes. Those nearby had noticed the outsider watching their secret procedure, and some were less than impressed.
“There, twelve percent re-absorption. Isaac is nearing his rebirth. Rejoice, rejoice!” Anthony said.
The attention had switched to a wall screen at the far end of the dark and open plan office space. All watching had turned to see without moving from their spot, indicating that this was their usual routine. When Phoenix peeked through a gap in the taller line of bodies before her, she spotted the figure up on the screen. They’ve been collecting for years and they’re only at twelve percent? she thought.
Her mind turned to the unknown collector Anthony had been told about by his captive earlier. It quickly came to her that another collector would be a threat whatever his reasoning. The Sentient Collector could be doing the very same thing as Anthony and each would be preventing the other from completing their collection. The only problem she saw was that there were no indications of what would happen if either succeeded. Perhaps they would take each other out? she wondered.
After the excitement of the re-absorption count faded the crowd then slowly dispersed. With Anthony still stood working by the large wall screen, those who remained watched and shared quiet words between each other. This was Phoenix’s chance to speak with her boss and she expected a frosty greeting the moment he realised she had seen his performance.
“Anthony?” she said with a gentle tap on the shoulder of his velvet robe.
His childlike smile stretched from ear to ear. He was clearly revelling in his own importance again and was particularly happy with himself this time. Of course that quickly changed. Upon turning and recognising her distinct brand of non-conformity his face dropped like a sack of bricks had been hung from his eyebrows. “You can’t be here, dammit!” he said.
“I came to speak to you.”
“Yes, yes, this way.” Anthony led her toward the entrance of the large room, his hand clamped tightly around her left arm. “I told you never to come here. You people should stay in your–”
“You people?” Phoenix laughed with a shake of her head.
“You know what I mean. I told you all before, these people are highly impressionable. I can’t have the outside world getting its foot in the door.”
“Sorry, I just needed to speak to you. I still haven’t got an answer about when I can get my brothers.”
“I haven’t got time for this right now, I told you before.” When a pair of people whispered while walking by, Anthony stopped talking and nodded to each in turn. They then walked away and continued to chat, though not before sending a confused look to Phoenix first. “Come with me.”
Back in the hall, the tone of Anthony’s voice became more forceful as he marched her along. “This way,” he ordered. Then by a door on her right he spun her around and roughly let her arm free. He then gestured to the door.
“In there? Why?” Phoenix said.
“Because talking out here is too risky.”
She shrugged as she opened the door and stepped inside. It was dark in there and much less impressive than the hallway, like a storeroom. When Anthony turned the light on it was confirmed as being exactly that. The shelves running the length of the room, on either side, contained cleaning products and even parts for the automatic cleaning robot that probably roamed the building of a night-time.
“Is this some kind of seduction technique?” Phoenix said with a jokey tone. “Push the girl in the closet then have your way with her?”
No reply came as she wandered through the room, looking at the various items used to keep Anthony’s inner sanctum all spick-and-spam. When the door closed behind her and she heard the lock turn, she knew her humour had been ignored. Before she could continue speaking she felt Anthony grab both of her arms and then yank her body around to face him. His cheeks had become many shades redder since the door had shut. She was now left with nowhere to go.
He then began his tirade of anger. “Listen to me, bitch! You don’t invade my home and expect to be dealt with fairly. You’re nothing but an ant to me and these people. When I need you I’ll call, not before. Do you understand me?”
Shock from his attack made every hair on her body stand up to attention. She felt a tingling sensation run the course of her spine as every part of her readied itself for an undecided form of defence. Instinctively she raised her hands up to her chest and held them in place in case he let his anger
turn physical.
“Why do you test me like this?” he continued. “I gave you and your brother’s money, a job, even a home. And you just throw it back at me whenever the mood suits you. I won’t take this much longer.”
“You won’t have to, I promise. Can you let go of me please.”
As though he forgot he was holding her at all, he let go suddenly and stepped away. He breathed in and out four or five times in quick succession as she rubbed her aching arm muscles.
“Your brothers are not the priority at the moment. I need to concentrate of what’s coming next. What I have planned is too important for distractions right now.”
“Please, Anthony, I can’t leave them locked up. I was left to look after them and I made a promise to my parents that I’d always keep them safe. Let me get them, please.”
“No, I’m sorry. That is my final answer. It’s because I trust you that I can’t let you go, you have to understand that. The next phase of my plan will take another day at most. When it’s done, I will let you go. Hell, I’ll go with you too, if you want. Just not yet, OK?”
Her hairs jumped back up again in anticipation of more abuse as he stepped forward. Unexpectedly, he pulled her into him and forced her head against his chest. He held her in place while she contemplated an escape if he turned on her again.
“Will you give me one more day?” he asked.
The delay that preceded her reply made the inevitable answer seem just slightly forced. For a second or two she even considered staying silent altogether. “Yes,” she said, with no real commitment.
If Anthony had picked up on her hesitation it was a good bet he had taken her answer only on face value. Whether she stuck to this or not was still up for debate, she would decide later – when he was not tightly squeezing her upper body and uncomfortably compressing her breasts. He would know this all too well. The outcome could mean a loss of trust, and that was a very bad thing for anyone to bring upon themselves. For now she was content with at least trying to keep him happy.
“Good. Now, I need you to go back the warehouse and wait for me to call. Can you do that for me?” Anthony said.
“Yes. What’s going on?”
“I told you, the next phase of the plan. We’ve an opportunity to test out some new equipment that should make gathering together the rest of the MARCs out there much, much easier. And quicker.”
She pushed out of his grip and rearranged her clothing so it was once again straight. The heat he had passed on to her now evaporated away, allowing her T-Shirt to catch up on collecting the sweat that had built up underneath. “Where is that happening?”
“Ah, that would be telling. All I will say for now is dress appropriately.”
“In what?”
“Pick something that real people wear. You’ll need to blend in, like any ordinary shopper looking for a bargain. Where we’re heading, people will be going about their business with no idea of what’s coming. So ditch the hard-up look, OK?”
When Anthony opened the door his face changed instantly, like turning over a coin. He entirely replaced his straightened expression. His eyes softened to release the wrinkled edges that had formed during his tantrum. The tell-tale signs of a forced grin were all across his face for Phoenix to spot. The others would never notice his fake smile, they worshipped the ground he walked on. He then casually wandered off with his hands together.
Engrossed by a contemplative silence, she reconsidered her position. Did she still need to work for Anthony after she got her brothers safely back? She was unsure if she could continue now, let alone a day or even a week from now. The one thing keeping her tied to his operation was the possibility of his disappointment – and inevitable retaliation. Or was it? Once again she found herself struggling to determine exactly how far Anthony could go. And the suggestion that they were about to include the public in his plans in some way made it even harder. The line in the sand was moving closer with each day the operation continued.
She had ended up giving him another chance too, after all of her firmness earlier in telling herself that enough was enough. His manipulation skills were not lost on her at all, though they needed to be backed-up with threats now. Her D-Stim supply went straight to her, not through Anthony. So his technique required a much blunter arm to supplement the missing compounds force-fed to his followers. It was the only way she kept herself immune to his religious rhetoric. She strived to make sure the same applied to her brothers too.
After a quick jog toward the entrance and leaving the storeroom far behind, she headed for the welcome embrace of the city. It occurred to her that this was the happiest she had ever been to return to its dirty streets. I’ve been here too long, she thought, as she made her way outside.
When the sun hit her eyes they clamped shut amid a sudden film of moisture. She blinked a couple of tears away as her sight acclimatised to the daytime light. Then she noticed a puff of smoke floating by her face. Turning to see what it was, she inadvertently sucked some of it in.
“Hi Phoenix. What you doing here?”
She was surprised to see Pete standing with the two guards that had let her in earlier, each drawing deep breaths of nicotine filled air from a small compressed can. With each turn one of them held it and depressed the button while another cupped their hands over the nozzle, taking a huge intake. Pete had just had his turn and was now readying a hit for his friend.
“Pete? I came to speak to Anthony. Why are you here?”
“Oh, I come here sometimes. Mainly when I’m low on D-Stims.”
The guard whose turn it was patted Pete on the shoulder. “Press it then,” he said.
“Shit, sorry dude,” Pete said.
“Dammit Pete, you can’t use Anthony’s stuff. Look, let me get you some next time. The stuff here has all kinds of other shit mixed in with it.”
Pete continued to press the button, which hissed suddenly. “It’s just some extra ingredients, Phoenix, nothing dangerous. Anthony said I can use his stuff whenever I get low.”
“I bet he did,” Phoenix said.
“Why say it like that?”
“Don’t worry, Pete. Just promise me you won’t get caught up in his cult bollocks, OK?”
“Are you two done? It’s my turn next.”
“Duty calls,” Pete said in jest. He then proceeded to hold the can for the other guard, who waited patiently for a go.
Phoenix quickly hugged her friend before she left him to bask in his nicotine fuelled glory. She then made a speedy pace in the direction of the Mag-Lev line. Pete was probably old enough to be her dad, but still far less capable of coping with everyday life than she ever was. Because of this she always found herself looking out for him like she did her brothers. The last thing she needed was him becoming one of Anthony’s nutters.
The next part of Anthony’s plan worried her. She knew she had little choice but to go through with it. The question was how far would she go? Family was more important to her than anything he had in mind. If he pushed her too far, she would put her brothers first every time.
“Time to get some knew kicks,” she said. Looking up nearby clothes retailers on her wrist screen revealed three that were ripe for the picking. She was a shoplifting queen when it came to clothing. The problem was choosing something she would not normally be seen dead in.
Chapter 8
Kristof Rajco
“Good morning, sir, my name is Denise. How can I help you?” the receptionist said in her chirpiest manageable voice.
“Yes, my name is Kristof Rajco and I’m here to see…” Kristof stopped abruptly to check the name on his glowing wrist screen. He pulled his grey suit sleeve up a few inches to reveal the reminder flashing up on his personal device. “Ah yes, Bridget Hearn.”
“OK, let me just see…” The receptionist quickly scanned the visitor list scrolling down the desk screen in front of her. When she spotted the matching diary entry for Bridget Hearn her face broke into a wide smile, revealing a mouth of exquis
itely shiny white teeth. “Here we are. You can go right on through, sir.”
“Excellent, thank you, Denise,” Kristof said with a wink, before departing the foyer of Simova’s main office in the city. He proceeded to approach the lifts, but decided to venture up the stairs instead. After such a long journey, in which he had read a ton of documents to bring him up to speed with the current situation, he needed an excuse to stretch his legs. On the way he smiled at the many people apparently doing the same, some at much slower paces than him however.
With the first flight of stairs quickly behind him, he took to risking two steps at a time. His destination was the fourth floor and he had little interest in prolonging things. Once inside he planned on getting answers quickly and without delay.
At the landing of the fourth floor he stopped to compose himself before entering the office. The walk had released all of the pent up energy he had accrued while sitting in the Mag-Lev car for hours. It had also ruffled his hair somewhat. He took the large collection of blonde strands that were hanging by his nose and smoothed them back into place across the peak of his forehead. He was now ready to enter with the authority his job carried.
With over exaggerated confidence he pulled the doors open and stepped through. Inside the office was a scurry of activity as those employed by Simova worked away, like the good worker bees they were. Although no-one looked up or turned to see him enter, to his eternal disappointment, which rendered his forceful entrance moot. In response to them having totally ignored him, he set his takeover into motion with even more fervour than originally intended.
“Everybody listen up.” Kristof clapped his hands together, then held them in front of himself while he waited for the room to slow to a crawl. When most had stopped he continued in the hope the rest would soon follow suit. “My name is Kristof Rajco. I’ve been sent from head office to take charge while we deal with some recent problems that have arisen. Can anyone direct me to Bridget’s office, please?”