‘Yes, of course.’ I reply, feeling foolish for having allowed that fact to escape me.
‘It’s fine. It’s bound to happen. You're still trying to get all your memories back.’ He says reassuringly.
I have my memories back. What I’ve lost is focus. Owing to an irrepressible desire for the woman who is probably in love with my best friend, I’ve lost sight of the big picture. I turn to look at Hero; at his enormous shoulders as he leans forward, entirely blocking my view of anything on the left. His build is perhaps an acquired taste. And as for his bionic features, most would argue that they make him less human, given the psychological effect of these enhancements. But as I glance at the big green eyes glistening under the baseball cap, I wonder if Starla sees what I see when she looks into them. There’s a measure of strength and benevolence seldom seen in ordinary men. The truth is, I’ve idolised him all my life. Why wouldn’t she?
‘I’ve been thinking.’ He says suddenly. ‘We should keep Starla out of any plan that requires us to leave the villa’
‘Really?’
‘It’s safer that way.’
‘You’re right, of course. Have you discussed this with her?’
‘Not yet. But it’s best if they all stay here.’
‘Okay.’ I say, slowly reflecting. ‘And after what happened on the yacht, she’s unlikely to want to take any more risks.’
‘Perhaps.’ Says Hero. ‘But she’ll argue that it’s her choice, whether she wants to leave or not because she’s stubborn.’
‘Undoubtedly...’
‘So we have to convince her that it’s in her best interest to stay with her father. We owe her the chance to live a good life. They all deserve that.’
‘So it’s just you and me.’ I say.
‘Just you and me.’
This was the confirmation I needed. Hero wanting to protect Starla by keeping her out of the plan is clearly proof that he’s in love with her. Why else would he exclude the next bravest, most capable member of the team? Should I have been the one to suggest it? I just assumed that she’d want to be involved because we’re all in this together, and who are we to stop her? ‘Actually, I think we should let her make that choice. Evelyn and Adam too. They all know what’s at stake and I know for a fact that Evelyn has fight left in her. If she can be useful, then she will. ’
He turns to look at me. ‘Jo, do you remember the late nights spent in the library talking politics with your grandfather?’
‘Yes. I remember always being sent to bed just as things got interesting.’
‘Well that’s the Evelyn I remember best; the Grapevine member who supported human labour rights and channeled calls for action against robotics and the fourth industrial revolution, through an ever shrinking medium. The Grapevine changed; it had to when the new laws came in, in favour of corporations. But Evelyn didn’t change. She continued to post regularly online and support those whose jobs were under threat from Bugs and other forms of mechanisation. She advised, and she protested. She continued to fight. Even when she took that call from Elaine and got the message wrong, she was still fighting. She knew somehow it was important, despite her confusion. Now with LIFE, she’s learned that thousands of people are being murdered. No one wants justice more than she does - except maybe Adam. But LIFE or no LIFE, they’re old. They’ve had their battles. It’s time for them to pass on the baton and enjoy however many years they have left in the sun.’
You’re right.’ I reply, thinking back. ‘They’re veterans. Let’s not risk them becoming casualties at the very last.’
‘And this is not Starla’s fight either. She’s already a casualty.’
We fall silent and reflective. The birds are quieter now and the light is brighter. For the moment, I vow to put thoughts of Hero and Starla’s relationship into a compartment in my head labelled ‘do not open until we’ve brought down the government.’ I’m a journalist first and foremost. It’s not just an occupation, it’s a calling. I’ve never allowed romantic attachments to get in the way of what I do, so why would I start now? ‘Hero, do you really believe that the government's aim is to control the population?’
‘Yes, but it’s not about numbers.’
‘That’s what I’m starting to think. Given who they’re targeting, it’s more likely social engineering.’
‘Creating a nation of winners.’
‘Yes and keeping numbers down at the same time. But I fear that even if the truth gets out, people are too far gone - too taken with the Future Party’s philosophy and lacking in empathy to see that what’s happening is wrong.’
‘We’re just the messengers Jo; we can’t do more than deliver the news. Whatever people decide to do with the information remains to be seen.’
‘No doubt the party has something in place in the event that their scheme is uncovered.’
‘What exactly? Enforce a curfew? Roundup and imprison agitators? Both are measures of control that would incite rage and suggest that the accusations are true.’
‘Not if the government convinced people that it was in their best interest to stay indoors, until the panic and uncertainty is over. People don’t like change. They don’t like upset…’
‘So the best thing Myers could do is hold out; deny the murders and do nothing. But if the truth is believed, he’ll be powerless to do anything at all. There’ll be rioting in the streets.’
‘Which historically, never accomplishes anything. But if the government was by some miracle to collapse following total anarchy, there’s nothing to replace it. There’s no opposition party.’
He doesn’t reply because he doesn’t need to. It’s speculative and we’ve discussed it all before. Neither of us has the answer. I spent hours trying to convince Starla that with enough evidence, we could bring down the treacherous party in power. But the truth is, we have no idea what would happen if we did. The outcome of exposing their crimes is impossible to predict. I suppose there’s always the possibility of an assassination, if anyone could get past Myers’ Shadows. Like Hero, they’re the best. Huge men and women (probably also psychopaths) armed, with heightened responses, steel bones and...something suddenly occurs to me. I have an unnerving suspicion about what happened on the yacht. Hero said that he’d calculated his probability of survival and decided against shooting Heather. But the chance of him dying was surely very low, given his inbuilt armour and precision focus and aim. So why did he hold out when the worse he was likely to have suffered, like Starla, was a flesh wound? Why didn’t he risk it? It doesn’t make sense. I’ve never called Hero’s actions into question before now and never doubted that he would always put my life before his. But why didn’t he on this occasion? I get an uncomfortable feeling as tentatively, I broach the subject. ‘Hero, I know we’ve been through this already but remind me; why didn’t you attempt to shoot Heather on the yacht.’
‘I told you; the risk of me getting shot was too high.’
‘But you’re not easy to kill. I mean; you’re enhancements make it near impossible for a bullet penetrating through to your major organs.’
He turns to face me. ‘Are you doubting me Jo?’
I look down sheepishly and fiddle with my watch strap. ‘No. It’s just that you have a greater chance of surviving a gunshot wound than Starla or I do. I just want to be clear…’
‘I wasn’t afraid of being hit by a bullet Jo. I was afraid that the gun contained tranquilizers. I couldn’t see the weapon from where I was standing. If I’d known it was a standard silent firearm, I would have come out. I haven’t had access to antidotes for years - since I was in the army - so I’m as vulnerable to the effects of a sedative as anyone. I’d have gone down like a ton of bricks and you would have had to turn the yacht around. Then game over.’
‘I see.’ I answer, regretfully. I wish I’d thought it through more before opening my big mouth. I don’t want him to think that I don’t trust him. I always have. Me questioning him is a first. The situation with Starla is clouding my judgem
ent. It’s getting in the way of our relationship. I should confront him now and get it out the way. At least I’ll know then where I stand.
‘Is there something else troubling you Jo?’
I hate that he reads me so well. ‘Actually, yes.’ I reply then look down at the watch on my wrist as I construct a sentence in my head. I’m about to voice my suspicions when something we haven’t yet discussed enters my mind: ‘Do you think my father is involved with PEACE?’
He sighs wearily, intimating that it’s a big question and perhaps a longer conversation. ‘I really don’t know.’
‘But if you had to say. You probably know him better than I do.’
‘That’s not true Jo. It’s been a long time since I was on good terms with your father. Like your mother said, it’s possible with his connections that he knows about PEACE. But it would be dangerous to assume..’
‘His values are the same as the Future party’s.’
‘Yes, as far as we know, a party he believes to be promoting choice, not poisoning people. You have to put it out of your mind for now, which is easier for you to do than it must be for Zara.’
I’m certain that it is. I can’t imagine how my mother must be feeling since we put doubt in her mind about my father - since I forced her to consider his increasing ties with politicians. She’s the one who has to live with him; face him at dinner, entertain his guests, climb into bed next to him at night and act like she knows and suspects nothing. I think she’s strong enough to hold it together. I’m not sure that I could.
‘We should wake them up.’ I say, moving on decisively. ‘There’s a lot of work to do.’
‘Evelyn will be up in few minutes anyway to start breakfast.’
‘Old habits die hard.’ I answer, remembering home and the way she’d knock my door carrying a tray of sickly sweet tea and wholemeal biscuits. ‘Last night, I told her about P400.’
‘How did she take it?’
‘Badly.’
He laughs quietly. ‘I wasn’t going to mention it.’
‘I think she knew it was coming. Eventually, even the most avid robophobe has to accept that it’s just progress.’
‘Does that mean you’ve accepted it?’
‘Of course not. I’m picking up the fight where Evelyn left off.’
Chapter 17
Partway through breakfast, Hero informs us that four nights ago he visited Arthur Luvel, the son of Elaine Steele’s last employer. There’s enough intrigue to speed up the eating. We all help to clear the table. As I pile up the crumb scattered plates, I’m careful to avoid eye contact with Starla on account of having asked her how she’d slept last night and been sorely disappointed with the answer. ‘Very well thank you.’ She’d replied, before confidently biting into a brioche, as if eating carbs is second nature to her. I’d nodded and smiled then concluded that she had not been alone all night, for how could anyone claim to have slept well under the circumstance and woken with an appetite for bread, unless distracted by a passionate midnight encounter with a hunky cyborg. But as I’d vowed to lock away my thoughts and feelings on the matter, I refused to dwell on it further - hence proceeding in a slightly frosty manner.
Adam pulls in his a chair in a ‘let's get down to business’ sort of way. ‘So what did you find out soldier?’
‘Not enough.’ Hero solemnly replies.
Evelyn sighs. My heart sinks too. I’d been certain that Arthur would have answers - or at least provide us with some leads.
‘What do mean ‘not enough?’’ Questions Starla. ‘What actually happened?’ She adds, pulling down the sleeves of her cardigan then folding her arms.
‘I’ll show you.’ replies Hero, reaching down into one of the pockets of his combats. He pulls out a thin white cable and small white box with a lens on the front, and lays the items on the table.
‘What’s this?’ Asks Adam.
I know exactly what it is so take it upon myself to explain. ‘The lead plugs into one of the eyes in the back of his head. It’s a fibre optic cable that streams footage recorded on his eye to the box, which is a projector and speaker. If he was online, he could simply upload the video. But this is a way to see what he’s recorded when he’s offline. And crucially, for us to see it as we no longer have Chips.’
‘Excellent.’ Says Adam. ‘This should be interesting.’
‘I need a blank wall.’ Replies Hero, putting the loose end of the cable into the box, having just plugged the other end into the hole behind his right ear. We all look for the least cluttered wall in the dining area. Having identified a potentially blank space, Starla stands and removes the painting of Rome behind her, then rests it against the adjacent wall. I watch her hair fall over her face as she bends down. I accidently linger but manage to avert my eyes just in time, before she becomes aware that I’m watching her. Evelyn jumps up and grabs the remaining breakfast items - a tray of condiments from the centre of the table. ‘It might be in the way.’ She says, helpfully placing them on the counter behind her.
‘I filmed it 360 degrees.’ Says Hero. ‘But it’s easier if you watch it through my front eyes.’
He then slides his finger across the white box. Starla repositions her chair closer to me, for a better view. In close proximity, I’m certain that I feel something; an invisible pull or energy as if we’re being drawn towards each other. But I quickly decide that I must be imagining it. She crosses her legs then looks up at the wall, just as the back of a man's head appears, as seen through Hero’s eyes. His night vision illuminates the scene in the otherwise darkened room. There’s a man pressed up against a patterned wall and he’s struggling. His voice is muffled under Hero’s hand and it becomes apparent that he’s in an armlock.
‘Stop.’ Says Hero, over man’s muted cries. But the captive continues to wriggle and thrust and try to shout out. ‘Stop fighting me.’ says Hero, closer to his head this time which is a mass of shaggy brown hair. ‘I just want to talk.’
The man stops suddenly. Slowly, Hero removes his hand.
‘Let me go!’ He immediately cries.
Hero puts his hand back over the captives’ mouth. ‘Are you Arthur Luvel?’ Nod if you are.’
The man stops moving, nods once then breathes heavily through his nostrils like terrified prey. Gradually, Hero removes his hand.
‘What’s in the drawer?’ Asks Hero.
‘Nothing.’ He replies.
There’s a slamming sound and the camera jerks slightly as presumably, Hero kicks shut the drawer he’s referring to. He then lets go of Arthur’s arm and steps back to allow him to turn. Standing before him is a scrawny individual with a long face, sad looking eyes and the most neglected set of teeth I’ve ever seen. Though he appears to be as tall as Hero he lacks bulk, to the point of being undernourished. It’s hard to believe that he’s related to any of the Prime family and certainly bears little resemblance to his father, Howard Luvel.
‘That’s better.’ He says, rearranging his t-shirt as if being hustled by an intruder was merely an inconvenience. ‘What do you want?’
‘My name is Horatio.’ Answers Hero, inspecting him closer by zooming in. I believe he’s also checking Arthur’s eyes to make sure that he himself is not being recorded. I notice that his skin is pale and dry looking - understandable perhaps if he never sees sunlight.
‘I’m here to ask you some questions on behalf of a friend. I mean you no harm. But if you try to call for help, I will kill you.’
Arthur answers with sardonic smile: ‘I know who you are.’
Hero waits for him to elaborate.
‘You’re the soldier. Brother of ‘The Tytan’.
Hero stands perfectly still, waiting for him to speak again.
‘I know about the journalist too.’
‘How?’
‘Can I please sit down? My legs hurt.’ he says, with a whimper.
‘No.’ Hero replies sternly. ‘Tell me what you know about the journalist.’
‘Inigo Jones. He writes
about LOSERs.’ He says, grinning widely. ‘But nobody takes him seriously.’
Hero steps forward suddenly. Arthur flinches.
‘I don’t have time for games.’
‘No, you don’t.’ He responds, recovering quickly from the threat. ‘You're on a mission to expose the government.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘I worked it out.’ He says, strangely beaming with pride. ‘Who’d have thought it? Or perhaps it stands to reason?’
‘What stands to reason?’
‘The most extensively modified human in history; 360 degrees night vision, inbuilt tracking and navigation, bones of steel and some other power that allowed you to break in... What is that? Anyway, you were built to fight - and win. You and your journalist friend Mr Jones; you’ll fight them together.’
‘That’s a lot of conjecture.’
‘Not conjecture; I’ve read the failed program reports.’ There’s a pause. Arthur becomes despondent, his eyes shift to the floor. ‘Other soldiers weren’t so lucky.’ He says, with an exaggerated pout. ‘Their bones crumbled and their minds fell apart. Please, sit with me.’
Ignoring the request, Hero continues: ‘What else do you know?’
‘I know everything.’ He whispers.
‘Everything?’
‘PEACE.’ He says, speaking even more quietly. ‘The Prime family’s secret force. And the devious old man upstairs.’ He looks up to the ceiling.
‘How did you find out?’
‘I woke up.’
It doesn't take Hero long to work it out. ‘You were given CIA.’
‘Yes.’ He confirms, with a jaded sigh.
‘Why?’
‘Beats me.’
‘What triggered the recall?’
‘I can’t remember. The mind is a mystery...’
‘But the brain is not. Your memories were reconnected. What did you see or hear?’
He shrugs unhelpfully so Hero tries another line of enquiry. ‘Your former housekeeper Elaine; do you know what happened to her?’
‘I was the one who found her.’
‘You called the police?’
2079- Beyond the Blue Page 17