Genius Squad

by Catherine Jinks

  "More or less," said Cadel.

  Trader cocked his head to one side, his smile still plastered across his face. "It's a great disguise," he conceded, "but I still don't understand how you're going to get out of here. The coppers will be suspicious because they won't have seen you come in. Not dressed like that, anyway."

  "I won't be dressed like this when I leave," Cadel informed him.

  "Then they'll follow you."

  "I know."

  "You can't hide in the back of the van," Lexi pointed out. "If they're looking through the gates, they'll see you climb into it."

  "Don't worry," said Cadel. "I know what I'm doing." Once again, he addressed Trader. "I just need Hamish and Devin to help me. It won't take more than four hours, tops."

  With the American system shut down for the night, Hamish and Devin were at a bit of a loose end. So Cadel wasn't surprised when they agreed to accompany him to the cinema. Zac volunteered to drive there and might even have stayed to watch the movie if its subject matter had been more to his taste.

  "I'm not a big fan of horror films," he remarked, tapping the entertainment page of Judith's newspaper. "Couldn't we see this one instead?"

  "No," said Cadel. "It's all a matter of timing."

  "What about me?" Lexi plaintively demanded. "Why can't I go?"

  "Because you have decoding to finish," Trader rejoined, and that was the end of that. No further discussion was entered into. By two o'clock Cadel was sitting in Zac's battered old van, heading for the city. On his knee he was nursing a backpack that contained his bulky girl's costume, as well as a packet of crisps protruding artfully out of one side pocket. This chip packet was another part of his disguise.

  "There has to be a reason for bringing such a big bag," Cadel had explained, after insisting that Hamish load up his own backpack with lemonade and caramel popcorn. "The police have to think we're smuggling cheap snacks into the movie."

  "You mean those guys actually think?" had been the response from Hamish, who was almost too enthusiastic about Cadel's plan. Cadel worried that the surveillance team might start to wonder why Hamish kept prancing from foot to foot and breaking into giggles. Would they grow suspicious? Or would they look at those massive biker's boots, and that unsuccessful buzz cut, and decide that Hamish was just a harmless flake?

  Cadel certainly hoped so.

  Before leaving Clearview House, Cadel had donned one of Devin's beanies, as well as a pair of blue jeans and a red top. Devin himself was already gone by then; he'd caught the 1:07 bus (as instructed) wearing an outfit similar to Cadel's—minus the beanie. Cadel made sure that Zac's van arrived at the Broadway cinemas with barely enough time to spare. Knowing that the police car was on his tail, Cadel wanted to be able to charge inside at top speed without giving the impression that he was running away from his bodyguards.

  As Cadel had told Zac, it was all in the timing. When Zac entered the multilevel car park and pulled over, Hamish and Cadel immediately jumped out. This ploy took the police by surprise. They obviously weren't prepared for such a quick drop-off, though it didn't take them long to react. By the time one of them had climbed out of their vehicle, however, Cadel and Hamish were already through the exit door and halfway up a flight of stairs that led to the cinema complex.

  Cadel tore off his beanie in the stairwell. At the top of the stairs, he punched through another door to find himself just around the corner from the cinema box office. Devin was waiting for him, tickets in hand. Cadel exchanged the beanie for a ticket while he and Hamish and Devin raced around the corner. It was at this point that Devin donned the beanie.

  Then they separated. Cadel plunged into the ladies' restroom while Hamish and Devin sprinted toward cinema number three. Cadel was sure that the usher had seen only two boys, one dressed in a gray beanie, a red top, and blue jeans. If given a description, she would direct the police toward cinema three—where Hamish and Devin would be sitting in the dark, at the very back of the theater.

  Here they would remain for the next two-and-a-half hours.

  Cadel surprised one little girl when he crashed into the ladies' toilets, but didn't try to explain himself. As she stared at him, openmouthed, he scurried past her and shut himself in a cubicle. Then he changed his clothes, waiting several minutes (until the coast was clear) before emerging to slap on makeup. He was interrupted during this process by a middle-aged woman in a tracksuit. By that time, however, he was wearing lipstick, so she didn't give him a second glance.

  He had already concealed his backpack inside a larger plastic bag, which he'd brought with him for that purpose. And he knew that the ankle boots made him look taller than usual. Nevertheless, when he finally emerged from the restroom, he did so with a wildly beating heart and a high color.

  Sure enough, one of his bodyguards was sitting on a bench not far from cinema three.

  Cadel recognized him as the driver of the car that had followed Zac's van from Clearview House. The other policeman was probably inside cinema three, sitting somewhere near Hamish and Devin. Devin had been told to stay slumped in his seat, thereby giving the impression that he was fairly short. He was also supposed to be keeping his mouth shut and his face lowered. Cadel hoped that he would remember to do this. There was a risk that the movie might distract him.

  Marching past the bored police driver, Cadel busied himself tucking Sonja's hairbrush into Lexi's shoulder bag. This activity was supposed to divert attention from his face to his hands. But he wasn't too worried. Having timed his exit to coincide with the end of another film, he was carried along in the tide of patrons spilling from cinema four, and managed to lose himself in the crowd pretty quickly. With so many people to look at, the policeman didn't appear to notice Cadel—who slipped out of the cinema complex into the larger, brighter expanse of an adjacent shopping mall.

  From there, he descended to street level and made for the university. It took him about ten minutes. But it was another hour before he located Gazo. In fact, he was just beginning to wonder whether he should risk making inquiries at the main university office when he spied a man pruning a hedge near the entrance to St. Paul's College.

  Cadel recognized his friend instantly. Rather than calling out Gazo's name, however, he scanned the immediate area for any suspicious-looking people who might be loitering on benches or sitting in cars. There were cars aplenty, and even a scattering of people, though Cadel decided that they probably weren't police officers or GenoME surveillance scouts. For one thing, they were all very young. And for another, they were all on the move, walking briskly past Gazo on their way to a library or a bus stop, their backpacks laden with books, the noise from their iPod earphones blocking out the roar of traffic and the chatter of birds. Every one of these busy pedestrians seemed as harmless as a drink of water.

  Even so, Cadel approached his friend with great care. Clacking along in his high-heeled boots, he pretended to catch sight of Gazo when they were only five or six feet apart. Gazo was wielding a pair of hedge trimmers. His attention was fixed on the foliage in front of him, so he didn't notice Cadel at first. Not until Cadel had muttered his name.

  "Gazo? Is that you?"

  Gazo turned, his face a mask of astonishment. He looked even more surprised when he saw Cadel, whom he clearly didn't recognize.

  "Remember me?" Cadel continued, with what he hoped was an alluring smile. "Ariel?" he said, and winked.

  Ariel was the alias that Cadel had used in his disguise course at the institute. Hearing it, Gazo gasped. His eyes widened. Before he could speak, however, he was interrupted.

  "Someone might be watching," Cadel said softly. "Just smile and look bashful, okay? I don't want to advertise the fact that I'm here."

  Gazo nodded. His answering grin was a little agonized, but all the more convincing as a result. Cadel was sure that if a real girl had accosted Gazo in the street, she would have received a similar kind of grin.

  "Has GenoME contacted you?" Cadel asked. "About helping at the Coroner's C
ourt?"

  Gazo's bewildered expression was as revealing as any spoken response.

  "Fine," said Cadel. "That's all right." And he went on to explain that GenoME was planning to abduct Prosper English, using Gazo as a secret weapon. "I've been hacking into the GenoME system," Cadel explained hurriedly, without mentioning Genius Squad, "and I don't want the police to find out what I've been up to. But I do want them to stop GenoME from freeing Prosper. That's why I was wondering if you could warn the police, as soon as you're approached. You will, won't you?"

  "Of course," Gazo replied, in a dazed fashion.

  "I figured you would." Cadel tried to adopt a flirtatious pose, putting a hand on one hip. He was hoping that, from a distance, he had the appearance of someone who was teasing Gazo about not showing up at a party. "The thing is, you'll have to tell Saul not to send any e-mails about this," he went on, "because GenoME has been hacking into the police computer system." Seeing Gazo's furrowed brow, Cadel decided to spell out exactly what he wanted his friend to do. "If anything gets onto the police system, it might tip off GenoME. So you'll have to pretend that GenoME was your source about the hacking, as well. You can't mention my name. All right?"

  Gazo hesitated, still absorbing this torrent of information. At last he said, "Sorry ... When will I be hearing from GenoME?"

  "Soon. Prosper's going to court on Monday. Which means GenoME will probably call you today sometime. Or tomorrow."

  "I don't get it." Gazo began to frown and shake his head. Then it must have occurred to him that he was supposed to be bantering with a girl, because he slapped on his tortured grin again. "Why would them people at GenoME fink I'd help break the law?" he demanded.

  "Because they know who you are, Gazo. They'll probably threaten to tell the police where you're hiding if you don't help out. And they might offer you a lot of money, as an incentive." Cadel laughed a mirthless laugh. "Not that you could trust them to give it to you."

  "I wouldn't take it, even if they did. I don't want Prosper outta jail."

  "No. Neither do I."

  They stared at each other for a moment, in perfect accord. Then Cadel said, "I d better go. I shouldn't hang around for too long."

  Gazo licked his lips. "Are the coppers following you?" he queried.

  "I don't think so. But they might be following you." Struggling to project an air of playfulness, Cadel delivered his final instructions. "As soon as you hear from GenoME, give Detective Greeniaus a call. He'll tell you what to do. And remember—don't mention my name."

  "No. I won't."

  "Mr. Greeniaus told me how helpful you've been." It occurred to Cadel that his friend deserved a pat on the back. "Thanks so much for talking to him. I really appreciate it."

  "He's a nice enough bloke," Gazo said with a shrug. "I reckon he'll do the right thing."

  "I know he will," said Cadel. And he took a deep breath, conscious of the minutes ticking by. He couldn't afford to linger. "Bye, Gazo. Sorry I can't stay."

  "Bye, Ca-Candy."

  Cadel was impressed. He would never have expected such a quick recovery from Gazo, who had corrected his slip of the tongue just in time. But then again, Gazo had been a student at the Axis Institute. Like Cadel, he had grown accustomed to being watched.

  Perhaps he had grown accustomed to dissembling, as well.

  They parted breezily, Gazo with a wave, Cadel with a smile. Anyone observing them would have seen no backward glances as Cadel bustled away, his whole attention focused on putting one high-heeled boot in front of the other. It wasn't easy, walking in those boots. And he didn't want to arouse suspicion by turning an ankle, or tripping over a crack in the pavement.

  Upon reaching King Street, he doubled back, returning to Broadway through the park in front of Sydney University. He reached the cinema complex with nearly an hour to spare; the police driver, he saw, was still sprawled on a bench near cinema three, bleary-eyed with boredom. The only other people in sight were a couple of ushers, looking almost as bored as the driver.

  This, Cadel thought, is going to be difficult.

  He went to the snack bar and made two purchases: a can of soft drink and a bag of mixed sweets. While passing the bodyguard, he took a swig from this can, tilting his head back and concealing part of his face. The sweets were supposed to act as a diversion. Their bright colors and seductive textures must have proved more fascinating than Cadel's profile, because no sharp inquiry followed him into cinema three.

  Fortunately, there were still a lot of spare seats in the theater. Cadel picked out Hamish and Devin in the back row, simply because he had told them to sit there; it was so dark that they were barely visible. For the same reason, Cadel found it hard to identify the other bodyguard at first. Only after positioning himself at one end of the back row did Cadel recognize the close-cropped skull stationed two rows in front of him.

  Yes, he decided, this is definitely going to be difficult.

  During the next hour, very slowly and carefully, he changed his clothes: first the shoes, then the skirt, then the sweater. He wiped off his makeup, and unpinned his hair. All the while, he kept a close eye on the policeman; whenever that nuggetty head in front of him swiveled, Cadel would lower his own chin and slide down deep into his chair. Finally, Devin passed him the beanie. After Cadel had yanked it on, the two of them performed a quick switch while Cadel's bodyguard was watching the big screen.

  Then, as soon as the credits started to roll, Cadel and Hamish made a hurried departure. Leaving a hatless Devin to skulk in the back row, Cadel lured his bodyguard outside, where Zac was waiting. "How was it?" asked Zac, in a loud voice. Whereupon Hamish replied, "Too long," and giggled.

  "I fell asleep," Cadel said.

  "He missed the b-best bit," Hamish added, and giggled again. "The bit with the eyeball. The rest was crap."

  "I told you it would be," Zac admonished. "Horror films always are."

  On their way to Zac's van, Cadel and Hamish made desultory conversation about the movie—conscious that they were being followed. But once they were actually in the van, and heading for home, they were able to let their guard down. Cadel began to massage his temples. Hamish began to wriggle about in his seat.

  "Oh my god!" he erupted. "That was so awesome!! can't b-believe it actually worked!"

  "Do you think it really did work?" asked Zac, addressing Cadel.

  "I hope so," Cadel replied. He was feeling the reaction already; his hands were beginning to tremble, and he'd broken into a sweat. "If it didn't, I ll probably hear about it soon enough. From Saul Greeniaus."

  "Of course it worked!" Hamish insisted. And Zac said, "Did you speak to Gazo Kovacs?"

  "Yes," said Cadel, staring out the window.

  "Is he going to cooperate?"

  "Yes." Preferring not to elaborate, Cadel cleared his throat and changed the subject. "Did anything happen while we were out?"

  "Only one thing." There was a pause as Zac negotiated a rather tricky bit of traffic. At last he sighed, then said, "Sonja finished decoding one of Carolina's old e-mails. And it turned out to be an eye-opener. Apparently, the Australian branch was opened for just one reason: so that GenoME could get hold of Prosper English." He cut a quick glance in Cadel's direction. "That's what Carolina implied, anyway."

  "Oh shit," Hamish breathed.

  "If only Earl Toffany had agreed with her—in writing—we'd be able to pull the plug on GenoME right now," Zac concluded. And then he shrugged. "As it is, we've still got some digging to do."

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  "All right," said Trader. "Let's consider our current status here."

  It was Saturday afternoon, and Genius Squad had gathered around the kitchen table. No one was absent, because no one was on eavesdropping duty. With Amy's computer turned off for the weekend, the bug inside it couldn't be used.

  "Cliff and I have discussed the situation," Trader announced, "and we think that measures will have to be taken vis-à-vis this kidnapping attempt. It's going to cause a bit
of a problem for us, unless we move fast." He glanced over to where Cliff was sitting. "Care to expand on that, Cliff?"

  "Uh, yeah," Cliff rumbled, leaning forward. He looked very tired—and he wasn't the only one. Cadel could hardly keep his eyes open, having been awake since 3 A.M. He had risen early to give himself extra time for trawling through the American systems, which were now shut down for the night.

  Cadel worried that he might fall asleep where he sat.

  "Okay," said Cliff. "First off, for those who haven't been told, the police are aware of GenoME's plans because Gazo Kovacs has alerted them."

  "I think he's alerted them," Cadel amended, stifling a yawn. "I'm not sure yet. When Saul rang me this morning, he didn't go into specifics. He just wanted to know if he could come round at four o'clock. He said it was very important, and it had to do with Prosper English." Cadel shrugged, in a resigned manner. "Maybe he's just going to bawl me out for visiting Gazo yesterday."

  "Well, let's assume he wants to tell you about the proposed breakout," said Trader. "We can't be sure about that, because there's no mention of it on the police systems—"

  "Which is a good thing," Judith interjected.

  "Which is, as you say, a good thing," Trader agreed. "But if Gazo has told the police about GenoME's plan to abduct Prosper, we have to ask ourselves: What happens if the cops now decide to raid the Australian branch? Or arrest Carolina? You can bet Jerry Reinhard has a contingency plan in place."

  "He does," Cliff gloomily confirmed. "He has a whole policy document."

  "As well as a red button," added Hamish, who was chewing on a piece of Lexi's bubble gum. This gum kept sticking to his braces, but he refused to spit it out. "You know," he said, when he saw Trader frown. "I mean a self-destruct program. To trash all their computer files and slam the door to America."

  "Then we have to tackle that program ASAP." Cliff thumped a fist on the tabletop. "God forbid Jerry gets nervous and destroys valuable data."

  "You can sabotage a self-destruct program, can't you, Dot?" Trader inquired. "There must be a virus you can install, or something?"