by Thomas Fay
A muffled sound made him instantly alert. Bringing his weapon up to a firing position, he inched forward. Crossing the threshold into the bedroom, he took in every detail: a bed, two bedside tables, a chair, a large window overlooking the harbour and a startled young woman standing in the centre of the room.
‘Sentinel—freeze!’ he shouted.
‘Don’t shoot, please!’
John lowered his weapon. The young woman brought her hands up to her face, an instinctive protective gesture. Her red hair caught the light of the sun as her green eyes stared at him.
‘Is everything alright, John?’ Socrates asked. The android had appeared behind him a split second after he had called out. Once again John marvelled at his speed. It was something which had saved his life more than once.
‘Yes,’ John said, holstering his weapon. ‘Are you alright, miss?’
She nodded, trembling. The adrenaline was clearly still coursing through her body from the encounter. John knew that feeling well.
‘Here, sit down and take a few deep breaths. The adrenaline will wear off in a few moments,’ John said. He indicated a chair by the window.
The woman nodded gratefully as she sat down.
‘Who are you?’ John asked.
‘My name is Simone. Simone Greenberg.’
‘What are you doing here, Simone?’
‘I was helping Professor Menzies with some research. He let me stay with him since my lease had just expired and I was having trouble finding a place to live. If you call him, he can explain everything.’
John cast a guarded glance at Socrates.
‘What did Professor Menzies have you working on?’ John asked.
‘It was groundbreaking research involving M-theory and its applications to energy transference.’
‘Energy transference?’
Simone sat up. She was clearly in her element, as her breathing increased and her words began to tumble out at an increasing rate.
‘Yes. M-theory postulates the existence of seven higher dimensions alongside the standard four dimensions. It attempts to bring together the various string theories into one united theory. What Professor Menzies was researching went beyond the theoretical aspects of the theory. He was researching the practical applications of accessing these other dimensions.’
‘To what end?’
‘To draw energy from them. It would have created an alternative to the Flux Cell. A clean, limitless energy source.’
John considered her words. If what she was saying was true, there was now one main suspect in the death of Walter Menzies. The Iona Corporation.
‘Who are you people, by the way?’ Simone asked, suddenly realising the situation she was in.
‘John Tesh, Sentinel, and this is my partner, Socrates.’
‘The android?’
‘Yes,’ Socrates said.
‘Amazing! I would have never suspected you weren’t human,’ Simone said.
‘Thank you. It is a testament to whoever built me that I am able to pass as human. It also makes my job easier to perform, as people would undoubtedly be less open around me if they knew what I really was.’
‘Wait. Why are you here, inside Professor Menzies’s house?’
John always hated this part; no matter how many times he had to deliver the news, it never got any easier. He took a deep breath.
‘I’m afraid I have some terrible news about Professor Menzies.’
Five
The unmarked Sentinel cruiser turned right onto New South Head Road the moment the red-light force-field barrier went down. The force field barriers were not particularly dense but their overall strength was sufficient to stop any vehicle on the roads. Deployed the moment a light turned red, they were designed to prevent human error from causing accidents. Someone, somewhere in the bureaucratic catacombs that were the Iona public service, had calculated that it was more effective to install red-light force-field barriers rather than update cars or any other of the myriad of safety measures proposed. Unlike most government initiatives, this one actually worked.
Inside the Sentinel cruiser, Socrates turned to his partner.
‘We’re going to the university,’ he said. It was a statement, not a question.
‘Yes. We need to understand more about his work,’ John said. ‘If what Simone told us is true, then this would explain why Walter Menzies turned to Lauren for help. Such a technology, if it were viable, would directly challenge the Iona Corporation’s dominance of the renewable energy market. It would also undermine their control over this city.’
‘The presence of Raptor scorch marks at the scene of the crime would suggest that they are involved and your reasoning is sound in relation to the Flux Cell.’
‘Yes, but why did they leave him there, to be found by the police? Why did they only pick him up after we had already seen him? It makes no sense,’ John said.
‘Unless they are not responsible for his death,’ Socrates said.
‘Exactly. The nature of Walter Menzies’s research means that any number of powerful individuals or organisations would kill to get their hands on the technology. I think we may have stumbled onto something much bigger here.’
‘Should we inform the Chief?’
‘Not yet. I want to be certain of what he was researching and just how close he was to practical application before we start accusing anyone.’
Socrates said nothing.
The Sentinel cruiser passed through another red-light barrier and turned left onto George Street in the middle of the CBD. The mid-morning traffic was relatively light and they made their way down Parramatta Road towards Iona University. John found himself marvelling at how quickly the name Iona had erased all trace of the old name Sydney. A name that had been in place for over two hundred years had been all but forgotten by most people. Everyone knew the city as Iona now. An entire city of six million people renamed after a corporation.
‘The physics department is on the eastern side of the campus, building A28,’ Socrates said, once again interfacing with city records. John turned the wheel and the Sentinel cruiser travelled down a well-worn road. Parking in front of the School of Physics building, John and Socrates exited their vehicle. Entering the building, they inquired as to the location of Walter Menzies’s office.
‘Second floor, room 205,’ a bored looking middle-aged woman told them.
Climbing several flights of stairs, they arrived at the specified door. Socrates pushed it open.
‘Christ, what a mess,’ John said.
The inside of room 205 looked like a tornado had passed through it. Papers were scattered everywhere, drawers were hanging open and the computer terminal was a tangle of wires. There was no sign of the laptop that had once occupied the spot.
‘It would appear that someone beat us to it,’ Socrates said, his eyes scanning the inside of the room.
‘Looks like it. Only question is who? The Iona Corporation or another party?’
‘We could have the police check for fingerprints or any forensic evidence.’
John shook his head.
‘A waste of time. If it was the Iona Corporation then the records will be classified. If it’s someone else then I can’t imagine they would be that careless. Either way, we won’t get anything from it.’
‘So that leaves…?’
‘Lauren. Damn. I should never have let her go this morning.’
Taking one last look at the office in disarray, John motioned to his partner.
‘C’mon. With any luck, she’s still in the city.’
Six
The apartment building was located twenty metres from the Rushcutters Bay Yacht Club, on an old, leafy street in Darling Point. The street was empty and quiet. Most of the houses were owned by high-profile businesspeople, television celebrities and those who had inherited more money than they knew what to do with. Its proximity to the CBD made Darling Point a highly desirable place to live. The fact that it was located on the harbour made it even more s
o.
Lauren exited the apartment building. Casting around, she made her way to a waiting taxi, carry-on suitcase in tow.
‘There she is. Looks like we’re just in time,’ John said.
The Sentinel cruiser came to a screeching halt on the opposite side of the road. The front doors were flung open as John and Socrates stepped out. Running across the street, they intercepted the taxi before it could leave.
‘Sentinel—remain where you are,’ John ordered.
The taxi driver lowered the carry-on suitcase he had been about to place into the trunk. He took a step back, a look of apprehension on his face. Lauren’s face had a very different expression.
‘John, what a surprise,’ she said.
‘What part of don’t leave the city was unclear?’ John asked.
‘What do you want from me?’
‘I need to—’
A single gunshot exploded from the top floor of the apartment building, shattering the silence of the quiet street. The bullet caught the driver in the chest, flinging him against the taxi. He collapsed to the ground. A large pool of blood blossomed across the front of his shirt.
‘Lauren—get down!’ John shouted.
Before either of them could react, Socrates brought Lauren down to the pavement. A second bullet hit a parked car on the street, shattering the front passenger window. The safety glass fell to the road in a thousand pieces.
Drawing his weapon, John dropped down next to Socrates and Lauren.
‘Are you alright?’ he asked.
Lauren nodded, too stunned to speak. Another shot rang out, this one missing them by less than a foot. John turned to his partner.
‘Go!’
Without another moment’s hesitation, Socrates was in motion. He sprinted across the pavement and into the apartment building. Its double-reinforced front door didn’t even slow him down.
Another bullet whistled past.
‘We’ve got to get some cover,’ John said. He scanned the street: several passenger cars parked along either side, a delivery truck across the road and uniform two-metre-high fences screening residences. His gaze came to rest on the truck. Grabbing Lauren, he propelled her across the street.
‘There, that truck!’ he shouted.
Hunched over, they half ran towards it. Leaning against its side, John tried the handle. Locked.
‘Sentinel override, voice identification: John Tesh, ID Alpha-101. Unlock all doors.’
The truck’s doors snicked open. John pushed Lauren in and dove in after her. A bullet shattered the front windscreen a split second after they got inside.
‘What the hell is going on?’ Lauren asked. She was lying in the driver’s foot well, her legs twisted around the centre console. John lay on top of her.
‘I was about to ask you the same thing.’
‘Someone’s trying to kill me.’
‘I noticed. Must have gotten to know you.’
Lauren ignored that.
‘You’re a Sentinel. Shouldn’t you do something?’
Another bullet shattered the passenger-side window. A moment later the driver’s side glass suffered the same fate.
‘I am.’
‘What?’
‘Waiting.’
The barrage of bullets ceased. An eerie calm settled over the peaceful street. John raised himself up, his handgun held at the ready. Nothing happened. He dropped back to the pavement and stood up. He looked back at the apartment building. There was no sign of movement. Reaching up, he helped Lauren out of the truck. A split second later Socrates appeared in front of the apartment building.
‘Status?’ John asked.
‘I was unable to disarm the gunman peacefully. He had a number of additional weapons and resisted. I had no choice but to use lethal force.’
‘Damn. What about the taxi driver?’
‘There is nothing we can do for him. He died instantly.’
‘Alright. I’ll call HQ and get someone down here to clean this up. You’d better do a thorough sweep before they arrive. No doubt our good friend Detective Jastrzebski will be along as well.’
‘What about you?’
John turned his gaze to his ex-wife, who stood quietly to the side.
‘I’m going to have a little chat with Lauren.’
Seven
The quiet street was transformed into a hive of activity. Three police cars had responded, along with an ambulance and an unmarked police sedan. Detective Jastrzebski was busy issuing orders to the uniformed police officers. Satisfied that they were doing their job, he turned his attention to John.
‘That’s twice in one day, Tesh. Dead bodies seem to be following you around.’
‘Technically they can’t follow anyone around. Being dead and all.’
Detective Jastrzebski grunted.
‘Who’s this?’ he asked, his eyes giving Lauren the once over.
‘None of your business,’ John said. ‘If you find anything of importance, make sure you let me know.’
‘Right. I certainly wouldn’t want to be accused of interfering with a Sentinel investigation. Especially not one that’s going as well as this one.’
John turned away from the detective. Placing his hand on the small of Lauren’s back, he propelled her gently away.
‘Who’s that horse’s arse?’ she whispered.
‘An overzealous detective. He doesn’t like me very much.’
‘Must have gotten to know you,’ Lauren said, smiling.
‘Touché.’
They moved to the side of the road, where Socrates stood watching the uniformed officers inspecting the damaged delivery truck. John found himself marvelling at how human the android looked. There were small, telltale signs that gave him away; he didn’t blink, his breathing pattern never changed and his hair was always arranged exactly the same way. But John knew Socrates well. For someone who was seeing him for the first time, they would have seen a thirty-year-old man, five foot ten, of modest build with light brown hair and grey eyes.
‘Did you find anything on the gunman?’ John asked.
‘Yes. He was definitely a professional. No ID, no identifying items of any kind. His equipment was of high quality.’
‘So, nothing that would explain why he had targeted Lauren?’
‘No.’
‘Any idea why anyone would want to kill you?’ John asked.
Lauren shook her head.
‘No. I mean, I’ve gone up against some powerful people in the past but nothing worth killing over,’ Lauren replied.
‘Then it has to do with Walter Menzies. What aren’t you telling me?’
Lauren said nothing.
‘C’mon, Lauren. We’ve been over this already. I can arrest you as an accessory to murder right here, right now.’
‘Alright. I’m not a hundred per cent sure but I’d say it has something to do with my scheduled meeting this morning.’
‘Your meeting with the head of the physics department?’
‘No. My meeting with the man who wanted to buy the technology that Walter Menzies was working on.’
‘Who was that?’
‘The Chairman of the Iona Corporation. Qallan Frost.’
They were interrupted by the arrival of an unmarked Sentinel cruiser. It stopped directly in front of them. The front doors swung open. Two men stepped out. Both were dressed in the Sentinel grey two-piece suits, with matching ties and black shirts. One man was in his mid-thirties, close-cropped hair with a solid build. The second man, the driver, was older. Despite his weather-beaten face and silver hair, he had the appearance of someone who could handle themselves in any situation. An old-school tough cop.
‘Fernali, Streeter. What are you doing here?’ John asked.
‘Chief sent us to take over from you,’ the older man, Fernali, said. ‘He wants you back at HQ asap.’
‘Why?’
‘He didn’t say. He just said it was urgent.’
John nodded.
‘Alright, we�
��re heading back. Make sure Jastrzebski shares whatever he finds and dispatch a uniformed officer to the taxi driver’s family.’
‘Will do. I’ll call you later with an update.’
Turning to his ex-wife, John motioned her towards their car.
‘You’re coming too. There’s no way I’m letting you out of my sight for a second time today.’
Eight
The Chief’s office was relatively small but it had a great view looking out towards the harbour. It was mid-afternoon and the sun was shining across the water, making it dance and shimmer this way and that. John’s attention turned back to the inside of the room.
‘What the hell is going on, Tesh?’ the Chief demanded.
‘What do you mean?’ John asked.
‘We’ve got a third dead body in so many hours. Your ex-wife is involved up to her neck and I’ve just received a call from Qallan Frost.’
‘Frost called you?’
‘Yes.’
‘What did he want?’
‘He wanted to know how our investigation was going.’
‘What did you tell him?’
‘I told him that I’ve got my best people on it and that they’re working as hard as they can to solve this. Was I lying?’
John shook his head.
‘No. Socrates and I are doing everything we can.’
‘Alright. Talk me through it.’
John laid out the details of the morning’s events. He deliberately left out the part about Lauren’s scheduled meeting with Qallan Frost.
When he had finished, the Chief let out an explosive breath.
‘Bloody hell, Tesh! What a mess.’
‘Tell me about it.’
‘Where’s Lauren now?’
‘She’s here with Socrates.’
The Chief nodded.
‘Alright. See what you can learn from her. You and Socrates keep chasing down this mysterious M-theory research. I’m officially assigning Fernali and Streeter as your backup.’