Socrates and the Sentinel

by Thomas Fay

  The holoprojectors stopped moving. They showed a circle of white light on the floor.

  ‘That’s strange, they haven’t picked up anything,’ James said.

  ‘Are you sure it’s working?’ John asked.

  ‘Yes, definitely. The parameters are loaded, he’s just not anywhere within range of a surveillance camera right now. I can backtrack and try to pick him up earlier?’

  John thought for a minute.

  ‘No. I’ve got a better idea. Re-run the search for Simone Greenberg. I suspect that if we find her, then we’ll find Socrates.’

  Thirty-Nine

  Barangaroo had been a rather poorly conceived shipping port from the start. It was located adjacent to the CBD but lacked the necessary infrastructure to service a major port located in Australia’s largest city. The stevedoring companies finally moved out by 2006 and the site was earmarked for redevelopment. After several years of heated debate about the future of the site, a plan was approved and works progressed amidst considerable public backlash and accusations of illegality in planning approval.

  Initial demand was unprecedented, with apartments in the waterfront development selling out within thirty minutes. Major corporations relocated to the new office towers and the parklands built on reclaimed land attracted tourists from across the globe. Prices skyrocketed during the Global Energy Crisis and further density was added, including the hundred-storey-high Lancing Tower. Originally designed to run on cutting-edge tri-generation plant, the entire building was switched over to Flux Cells in 2042.

  ‘Christ, what an eyesore,’ Fernali remarked. The Sentinel cruiser pulled up outside the front entrance to the Lancing Tower. John and Fernali stepped out. John craned his neck upwards, squinting against the sun shining off the blue glass facade.

  ‘It’s not exactly subtle, is it?’ he said.

  ‘Someone was definitely compensating for something when they designed this thing.’

  John laughed.

  ‘C’mon. Karl Hobbs leases several floors in the building. As far as we can tell, he’s there now.’

  ‘Lead the way.’

  They walked through the sliding front doors into the main foyer. A blast of cool air washed over them as the sound of distant music wafted gently through the air. Sunlight filtered through dual bladed-glass panels arranged in intersecting patterns along the full length and breadth of the foyer. A trio of security cameras swivelled silently to look directly at them.

  ‘Welcome to the Lancing Tower, gentlemen. May I help you?’ a young male concierge greeted them. He was dressed in a crisp blue suit and stood behind a black marble counter.

  ‘Sentinels. Official business,’ John said.

  The concierge paled slightly but maintained his composure.

  ‘Understood, sir. Is there anything I can do to assist?’

  ‘Yes. Is Karl Hobbs in the building?’

  ‘Let me check for you, sir.’

  The concierge swiped his hand across his touchscreen pad. A holographic projection of the building sprang to life. One of the upper floors was highlighted.

  ‘Karl Hobbs is currently in his office, located on the eighty-fifth floor. Would you like me to announce your arrival?’

  ‘No. Don’t tell anyone.’

  ‘Sir, I am required to announce all arrivals. It is my duty to—’

  ‘Do you know what the penalty is for interfering in a Sentinel investigation?’

  ‘No, sir. I didn’t…I mean I wasn’t interfering.’

  ‘Are we clear then?’

  ‘Yes, sir. Perfectly.’

  John and Fernali moved towards the turbo-lifts. Pressing the button for up, they waited.

  ‘Hobbs isn’t exactly hiding, is he?’ Fernali said.

  ‘No. Which is strange, given what happened with Jack Dell this morning. Either Dell overstepped his authority or Hobbs is so confident of nothing linking back to him that he doesn’t bother to hide.’

  Fernali checked his handgun. John gave him a look.

  ‘Just in case,’ Fernali said.

  The turbo-lift chimed and the doors slid open. Fernali and John stepped in. The doors closed behind them. They accelerated upwards. The LED screen showed the floors flashing past. Thirty seconds later the doors opened on the eighty-fifth floor.

  ‘Nice view,’ John said. Directly before them was a full height panoramic glass panel. It captured the view across Barangaroo, over the Harbour Bridge and out towards the Eastern Suburbs. An attractive brunette dressed in a mauve suit jacket and matching skirt approached them. Her blue eyes looked directly at them as her mouth curled up into a smile.

  ‘Good afternoon. May I help you?’ she asked.

  ‘We’re here to see Karl Hobbs,’ John said.

  ‘I see. And your name?’

  ‘John Tesh. Sentinel.’

  ‘And do you have an appointment, Mr Tesh?’

  ‘I…say what? I think you misunderstood. I’m a Sentinel. I don’t need an appointment.’

  The young woman maintained her smile but her eyes narrowed slightly.

  ‘I understand, sir. Mr Hobbs is an extremely busy man. I’m sure if you’d care to make an appointment then he’ll be happy to see you.’

  ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘Veronica Mason.’

  ‘Alright, Veronica. I’m going to give you two options. Either you can take me to Karl Hobbs or I can arrest you for obstructing a Sentinel. Either way, I’m going to see Karl Hobbs. Now.’

  Veronica’s smile wavered but she maintained her composure. A blue light flashed in the earpiece she wore. Touching her hand to it, she nodded her head slightly.

  ‘Please follow me.’

  She led them down a narrow corridor that ran along the side of the building. One side of the corridor was made entirely of glass. The city of Iona stretched out towards the horizon in every direction.

  ‘In here,’ Veronica said. She pressed a button on the wall and an oversized solid wood door rotated open. John and Fernali stepped through. The door rotated shut behind them.

  ‘Welcome, gentlemen. I’ve been expecting you.’

  Forty

  Karl Hobbs stood in the middle of his oversized office. He was in his late fifties. His skin was tanned, his hair silvery but thick. He wore an expensive tailored suit, charcoal in colour. The watch on his wrist cost at least as much as a small car. He exuded confidence and was not the least bit concerned by the presence of two Sentinels in his office.

  ‘Please, come in. Sit down.’

  ‘We’ll stand,’ John said.

  ‘As you wish.’

  ‘You don’t seem surprised that we’re here?’

  Karl Hobbs smiled revealing perfectly white teeth.

  ‘When you’ve been in the game for as long as I have, you make it your business to know what’s going on.’

  ‘Then you know why we’re here.’

  ‘I know why you think you’re here. Let me begin by telling you that everything you believe to be true about the situation you find yourselves in right now is false. You’ve been played from the beginning.’

  ‘Is that so?’

  ‘Yes. I’m certain you’ve been questioning certain things yourself. The Sentinels are supposed to be the best law enforcement operatives in Iona. From what I hear, you’re the best of the best.’

  ‘What I know is that several men that work for you, including Jack Dell, started a firefight in broad daylight.’

  ‘A firefight you say?’

  ‘Yes. The majority of those men are now dead. Those that survived are in Sentinel custody. We know you’re looking for Walter Menzies’s research. We also know you were funding his research and stood to benefit immensely if the practical test of the energy transference theory proved successful.’

  Karl Hobbs walked over to the window. He placed his hand on the glass. He stared out of the window as he spoke.

  ‘The significance of Walter Menzies’s research goes beyond money or control of the renewable energy market.
You, me, this city, all of its people, we are all under the control of the Iona Corporation. They took this city. The worst thing is that we let them take it. No one challenged them. No one questioned the move. Everyone was so blinded by the prospect of Flux-Cell-powered vehicles that they simply accepted Iona control.’

  ‘That still doesn’t explain why you sent armed men to track down Walter Menzies’s research.’

  Karl Hobbs turned around suddenly.

  ‘That research is the key to our salvation, to our freedom from the Iona Corporation.’

  ‘Are you saying that you’re actually trying to help us?’

  ‘I’m sure you’ve heard the rumours and compiled quite a file on me. Yes, I made millions during the global riots by taking advantage of people’s greed. I then used that money to invest and grow my fortune. I am one of the wealthiest people in Iona. But that wealth is meaningless without my freedom. If you knew what I know about the Iona Corporation then you would understand.’

  ‘Then enlighten us.’

  Karl Hobbs’s smile returned.

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t do that. You are, after all, Sentinels. You are employed by the Ruling Council, your very existence created to serve their agenda. So this is where we part ways.’

  Karl Hobbs pushed a button on his desk. The wooden door rotated open and half-a-dozen armed men entered. Fernali had half drawn his handgun. John motioned for him to hold still.

  ‘Goodbye, gentlemen. I’m sorry for this but, as I said, if you knew the truth then you wouldn’t trust anyone either.’

  Forty-One

  The turbo-lifts inside the Lancing Tower were built to carry twenty people in comfort. Their interiors were finished in a highly reflective metallic alloy while discreetly positioned micro-LED lights provided steady illumination. Cross-ventilated, with large display units and voice annunciation, they were designed to be a welcoming and comfortable place. Although there were only eight people inside the turbo-lift, John felt decidedly uncomfortable. He and Fernali were sandwiched in between six of Karl Hobbs’s men. Each of them held a handgun aimed directly at John and Fernali. The display counted down the floors.

  ‘Where are we going?’ John asked.

  No response.

  ‘You do realise we’re Sentinels, don’t you?’

  No response.

  ‘I’m going to give you one last chance to hand over your weapons and surrender.’

  ‘Shut up. We’re almost there,’ one of the men said.

  ‘What’s your name?’

  No response.

  ‘You look like a Bob. I’m going to call you Bob,’ John said. ‘Listen to me very carefully, Bob. For the next twenty seconds until the turbo-lift reaches the ground floor you have a choice. Hand over your weapons and surrender or face the consequences. Your choice.’

  Bob smiled.

  ‘You think you’re such a hot shot, don’t you, Sentinel? Trust me, you’ll be begging by the end, just like the rest of them.’

  John flicked Fernali a quick glance. Fernali nodded. The turbo-lift slowed as it approached the ground floor. Rather than stopping, it continued going into the basement levels. It finally came to rest at B09. The doors slid aside smoothly, revealing an underground parking level filled with cars.

  ‘Get out,’ Bob said.

  John and Fernali reluctantly stepped out. Two men walked in front of them, one on either side and two behind. They moved away from the turbo-lift towards a pair of black four-wheel drives. One of the men in front unlocked the vehicle closest to them by voice command and opened the rear doors.

  ‘Get in,’ Bob said. John and Fernali tensed up. The others raised their weapons.

  ‘I said, get in!’

  ‘Excuse me, sir?’ a female voice asked. A young woman, wearing blue overalls with a matching cap, stood next to the turbo-lifts. Her green eyes looked unconcerned as she stared at them. John looked at her. There was something very familiar about her.

  The handguns disappeared from sight as Bob turned to the young woman.

  ‘Is there something we can help you with, miss?’ he asked.

  The young woman smiled.

  ‘No. I just needed to distract you for a moment.’

  ‘Say what? Get out of here before I—’

  Bob never got to finish his sentence as he was sent flying backwards into one of the black four-wheel drives. He landed with a loud crunching sound as the passenger-side glass shattered. Bob’s unconscious body slumped to the ground. The rest of his men ended up in similar positions. The entire encounter lasted less than ten seconds. All of Karl Hobbs’s men lay unconscious. Socrates stood in front of John and Fernali.

  ‘What took you so long?’ John asked.

  ‘My apologies, John. We felt it best to wait until you were away from other people who could be injured in a confrontation.’

  ‘We?’

  The young woman took off her cap, revealing flowing red hair.

  ‘Simone?’

  ‘Hello, John.’

  ‘You’ve got some explaining to do.’

  ‘I’m sure you have questions but first we need to get out of here.’

  She pressed the button on the wall. The turbo-lift slid open.

  ‘You coming?’ she asked.

  Fernali cast John a questioning look.

  ‘Don’t ask.’

  The three of them stepped into the turbo-lift. Simone smiled as she joined them. The doors slid shut and the turbo-lift ascended to the ground floor.

  Forty-Two

  The Sentinel cruiser turned left off Hickson Road and climbed a steep winding road onto Argyle Street. Passing by several historic pubs and terrace buildings, John turned down a side street and pulled over on the side of the road near an old church. The Harbour Bridge was visible at the end of the street. An ominous-looking storm cloud was rolling in across the harbour from the west. Flocks of birds raced for higher ground to beat the incoming storm. John switched the car off and turned around.

  ‘Alright, time for some answers. Who the hell are you?’

  ‘My name is Simone Greenberg. Until recently I was a research assistant helping Walter Menzies with his research at the University of Iona.’

  ‘C’mon, Simone. We know you work for the Ruling Council. What we don’t know is why you’re interfering with our investigation.’

  Simone smiled.

  ‘Very good, John. Yes, I am part of the Ruling Council. I was assigned to assist you with your investigation.’

  ‘Assigned to us? By whom?’

  ‘I’m sure you already know the answer to that.’

  ‘Qallan Frost.’

  ‘Yes. He has been monitoring your progress very closely since this all began. He also sent me in to point you on the right path.’

  ‘How did you know so much about Walter Menzies’s research?’

  ‘What I told you before is completely true. I was his research assistant. I worked with him for eighteen months, ever since he began researching the practical applications of M-theory.’

  ‘So you were spying on him for the Iona Corporation?’

  Simone shook her head.

  ‘No, I was helping him with the practical applications. Previous tests of M-theory have been unsuccessful. One of the main reasons was the lack of a completely stable and zero-emission energy supply. We have that now.’

  ‘The Flux Cell.’

  ‘Yes. Call it ironic or paradoxical but without the Flux Cell it would not have been possible to take his research to the next level of practical application.’

  ‘Were you successful?’

  ‘That’s the part I don’t know. We were scheduled to conduct the final test today at his private lab, away from the university. But I’m fairly certain Walter did it earlier. That was the day before he was found dead.’

  ‘Why would he do that?’ Fernali asked.

  ‘Because he knew Simone was working for the Ruling Council. I suspect that Karl Hobbs tipped him off, if he didn’t know all along. He used Simone
to supply Walter Menzies with the technical and practical assistance he required. Then, on the eve of the final test, he made Walter do it earlier. The results must have been positive.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because Walter Menzies called Lauren for help. At the same time, Qallan Frost called her as well, wanting to acquire the research. Then everything fell apart. The thing I still don’t understand is why Jonathan Gage is so desperate to recover the research? Why did he snatch the body out from under us?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Simone said. ‘All I know is that the research is real and now it’s disappeared. Walter must have given the research to someone the night he died.’

  ‘What’s our next move?’ Fernali asked.

  ‘We need to find the research,’ John replied. ‘And I think I’ve got a good idea of who might have it or at least know where it is.’

  John switched the engine back on. The sky outside had darkened. Trees on either side of the road were being battered by increasingly strong winds. The temperature dropped. Then the first drop of rain fell. It landed on the windshield and slid down to the windscreen wipers. Several more followed. Then the sky opened and a wall of water descended on Iona.

  Forty-Three

  The Sentinel cruiser entered the underground parking garage through the Elizabeth Street entrance. Driving down the ramp, it turned right and headed to the end of a long row of identical cruisers. Manufactured by the Iona Corporation, the Sentinel cruiser was loosely based on the last of the Holden Special Vehicles GTS Highway Interceptors, which ceased production in 2020. Heavily reinforced at the front, sides and rear, the cruiser also benefited from a swarm of electronic equipment. The use of a Flux Cell to provide power removed the need for a large fuel tank, creating additional space for armaments and specialised gear. It was a powerful piece of equipment which formed the basis of the Sentinel arsenal against crime.

  ‘Full house,’ Fernali said.