Dangerously Placed (11 page)

‘I'll go,' said Sky.

‘Excellent. The way you're dressed, I doubt they'll object to you sitting nearby,' said Nix. Sky looked as if she couldn't decide whether to be offended or flattered.

‘Here – take this,' said Ki, pressing a button on her phone and handing it to Sky. I felt my own phone buzz in my pocket. ‘Try to hold it close to Dale so we can hear what's going on through Alex's phone. But be as unobtrusive as possible, okay?'

‘Of course,' nodded Sky. She set off as quickly as her platforms would allow around the front of the steps.
I glanced at Ki and saw she was thinking the same thing as me: being unobtrusive didn't really come naturally to Sky.

I pressed ‘Speaker' on my phone, holding my hand over the microphone area so Ki's phone wouldn't give us away, and the three of us huddled down to listen. At first we could only hear the clomping of Sky's enormous shoes, then a rustling as she sat down.

‘As you can see, a great white is an extremely fast swimmer, reaching speeds of nearly seventy kilometres an hour,' echoed the phone as the presenter spoke again. Then there was a scraping sound and suddenly I could hear Dale's voice.

‘… the last of the footage,' he was saying. ‘And I managed to see a couple of documents about Grody's plans for the Avatar deal, but I don't think I can get anything else useful.'

‘You've got another week, don't you?' said another voice, presumably the man beside him. ‘You never know what might come your way. And there'll be gossip around the office.' The man chuckled. ‘I never saw an office that wasn't rife with people out to stab each other in the back. You'll hear something, my boy, and when you do, send it straight through to me.'

‘And here comes Barry! At nine years of age, he's almost all grown up,' blared the loudspeaker, drowning out all other sounds.

‘… not that easy,' Dale was saying as the noise died down.

‘No one said investigative journalism was easy, Dale.'

‘Daddy! This is boring!' whined a small voice – the pigtailed girl, I assumed.

‘All right, Mia, we'll go in a minute. Dale, I understand it can be hard to get used to at first, but you've done a great job. It's inside information that sells, my boy, not interviews – remember that. Keep this up and you'll have your own column before you know it.'

So that was it. Dale had been gathering information to sell to a newspaper. No wonder he'd been terrified of anyone finding out he was in another Virk Room – if the truth had been revealed, he'd have been thrown out of Simulcorp Marketing and probably sued as well. Maybe this was where all the rumours about Grody and Simulcorp had been coming from.

‘That little weasel,' muttered Nix, grinding his football into the concrete path.

‘Well, we'd better be going,' said the unknown man's voice. ‘Say hi to your mum and dad for me, won't you?' There was a scuffling noise as he got up. Nix stood too.

‘Maybe I should follow – get a picture of them or something,' he said.

Before I could answer, the loudspeaker flared into life again.

‘And it looks like Sheila's coming up for the bait, folks!'

Screams erupted from the crowd. I turned just in
time to see a huge, gaping pair of jaws launch upwards. Then the shark plunged back into the pool, sending a great sheet of water over everyone in the bottom three rows.

And any fool who happened to be crouching
next to
the bottom three rows.

Gasping, I raised a dripping face to Nix and Ki. As the closest to the pool, I was completely drenched, while Nix's main problem seemed to be his wet fringe covering his eyes. Ki looked as if she'd merely been caught in a brief rain shower.

‘The moustache dude!' exclaimed Nix, unsticking a patch of wet t-shirt from his chest and peering over the steps. ‘Damn it, he's gone!'

I risked a peek too. Sky was clutching Ki's phone protectively and examining her precious platform sandals for water damage. Nix put a hand over the edge and tapped on the concrete to get her attention.

‘We should go after the moustache guy,' he hissed.

Sky nodded and made to stand up, but she slipped and her bag came crashing down, scattering her gear all over the step. Nix and I just managed to duck out of sight as Dale looked around and bent to help Sky pick everything up.

‘Oh! Thank you … I mean, you don't have to bother,' came Sky's voice from my phone.

‘It's my pleasure,' we heard Dale say.

‘I'll bet,' I muttered. He had to be getting quite an eyeful of Sky from down there.

‘My licence …' There was a series of clunks – presumably Sky had stuck the hand holding the phone into her bag to dig around. ‘I can't find it …'

‘Oh! Sorry, I was standing on it,' said Dale. ‘Here you are, Miss …' There was a pause, then Dale's voice again, sounding incredulous. ‘Skydreamer Tranquillity Pedersen? That's genuinely your name?' And that's when he made the fatal mistake of laughing.

‘Okay, that's it.' I heard a thud. Had Sky dropped her bag? ‘I've had about all I can stand from you, you spying, thieving, girl-misleading piece of –'

‘Aaaargh!'

I shot upright. The scream was Dale's – Sky had stamped on his foot with one of her platform sandals.

‘What the hell?' he exploded and made to grab her, but Nix was too fast for him. He hurled the mini football straight at Dale's head, smacking him right on the nose. I darted around the rail and ran up the steps, Nix and Ki close behind, prompting shouts of ‘Hey!' and ‘Down in front!' from nearby spectators.

‘
Alex?
' Dale shrank back against the steps, his hands cupped over his nose, his eyes wide.

‘We heard everything, Dale,' I told him, glaring down at his cowering figure.

‘Will you kids
sit down
?' yelled a man behind us. ‘We're trying to see the sharks, here!'

‘Our apologies,' said Ki. ‘We were just leaving.' She nodded at Nix, who grabbed Dale by the arm and yanked him up off the step.

Over by the dolphin pool, where the shark show commentary was just a dull drone, Nix shoved Dale against a wall and let go of his arm.

‘So it was you who leaked all the rumours about Grody's deals and what was going on at the office,' I said.

Dale stared defiantly into the distance. His nose was already turning an ugly purple.

‘You'd better answer her,' growled Nix, shaking his still-dripping hair out of his eyes, ‘or that nose is going to look a whole lot worse.' I was surprised to see how powerful Nix looked beside Dale. Somehow, Dale's fair, chiselled good looks seemed a little weedy in realspace.

‘All right, all right,' muttered Dale. ‘There's no need to get violent.' He turned to me, looking sheepish. ‘I'm sorry, Alex. I wanted to tell you, but it was too late – I'd already sent the first reports to Uncle Geoffrey.'

‘That guy's your uncle?'

Dale nodded.

‘He's the editor of
The Business Report
– it's a newspaper.'

‘I know what
The Business Report
is,' I said. ‘What I don't understand is what that has to do with your placement.'

Dale sighed.

‘Uncle Geoffrey wanted an inside scoop on Simulcorp's deal with Avatar. There were rumours about it going around, but no one had been able to
confirm that they were true. Uncle Geoffrey helped me get my placement, on condition that I found out more about Grody and Avatar while I was there and passed it on to him.'

‘And what about the footage?' demanded Nix. Dale looked up, startled. ‘You gave him footage of people in the office.'

‘It's nothing – just a few shots of Virk Rooms,' stammered Dale.

‘So you're telling us none of it was taken at the time Grody was murdered?' I asked. ‘It seemed to me you knew something about that.'

‘I don't! I swear I don't!' Dale began to sweat as Nix clenched his hand into a fist. ‘It won't make any difference if you hit me – I don't know anything about the murder.'

Nix seemed to weigh that up for a moment. Then he unclenched his hand.

‘What about Alex?' asked Ki quietly. ‘Did you give your uncle any information about her?'

‘I …' Dale swallowed. ‘Only one piece.' His eyes swivelled from Nix to me. ‘It's only a few seconds of footage, Alex. I'll make sure he doesn't use it.'

‘Show me,' I said grimly.

With shaking hands, Dale took out his phone.

‘Here,' he said, holding it out. I took the phone and the others crowded around me. The tiny screen showed a shaky video of a Virk Room door opening – obviously Dale had actually sneaked into my entry
room to take the footage. I saw a figure in a padded suit standing in the middle of a big, bare room. Me. As we watched, I bent over as if to pick something up. The screen zoomed in on my butt.

‘I … uh …' gulped Dale as four angry stares honed in on him at once. I flung the phone at him, my face fiery. Suddenly conscious that my soaked shirt was sticking to my body, I folded my arms in front of me.

‘What exactly was it your uncle asked you to do to Alex?' asked Ki. ‘Nix says you told him you couldn't do it.'

It was Dale's turn to go red.

‘He wanted me to make you like me. Kind of … seduce you. Not that … I mean, I –'

‘I don't want to hear it.' I turned my head away, anger and humiliation burning in my chest. Some small part of me had wondered from the start why a guy like him was so interested in me. But it still hurt to hear that it had all been an act.

‘I'm sorry, Alex.' Dale sounded near tears. ‘It was all Uncle Geoffrey's idea. He said he'd give me a job at the paper if I did well. I just wanted to get a head start. You wanted to do well at your placement, too – you understand, right?'

I didn't answer.

‘I say we haul him down to the police,' said Nix.

‘No! Please, Alex!' Dale reached out towards me, pleading. ‘I'll never get another placement if Inge and the others find out what I did. And my uncle could get
sued – they might even have to lay off people at the paper!'

‘Should've thought of that before you went around spying on people,' said Nix, grabbing him again.

‘Let him go, Nix.' I looked at Dale. ‘If you promise to make your uncle delete everything you've given him and not to try getting any more, we won't turn you in.'

Dale breathed out.

‘I can do that. I'll ring my uncle straight away – you can listen in if you like. And I promise I won't do any more spying.' He gazed around at the four of us, desperate to make us believe him. ‘I won't even come to work this week, okay?'

I nodded. Nix let go of Dale's arm.

‘Make the call,' I told Dale, watching him fumble with his phone.

‘Uncle Geoffrey?' he began nervously.

I didn't bother to stay and listen. I turned and walked away, feeling cold – and not just because of the breeze blowing on my wet clothes. I'd met Dale in realspace at last … but now I wished I could go back to the time when all I'd known was the virtual version. The real Dale wasn't someone I wanted to know at all.

If I'd thought life would be quieter in my second week of work experience, I was wrong.

The whole way from my house to AU-3 on Monday morning, I was sure I was being followed. I tried looking back over my shoulder at lightning speed a few times, but after my second collision with a parking meter, I realised all I was going to gain from that technique was the kind of nose Nix had given Dale with his football.

I was soon snapped out of my stalker worries, however. Budi, who was dressed head to toe in bright orange, told me that Dale had called in sick again, citing glandular fever and saying that he probably wouldn't be able to return before the end of the placement.

‘You haven't been meeting him in realspace, have you, Peaches?' Budi grinned. ‘You know what they call glandular fever – the kissing disease!'

I made a lame attempt at a smile. Budi's grin disappeared.

‘Hey, it was only a joke! Don't worry, Alex, I'm sure he hasn't really been out kissing other girls.'

‘It's none of my business what Dale does!' I tried to look earnest, even though I knew I was blushing. ‘There's nothing going on between us, Budi.'

‘Oh,' said Budi, but there were clearly many layers of meaning in that one syllable. I decided not to bother exploring them and sat down at the computer in my cubicle instead.

‘Should I work on the Impression proposal this morning, or can I go and visit the CGI guys?' I asked, keen to turn the conversation back to business.

‘I shouldn't think you'll have much time for either to start off with,' said Budi. ‘Isn't your school supervisor supposed to arrive in a minute?'

I looked at Budi's watch and gasped. Of course I should have known today was that day. Before we started our placements, we'd all been given an appointment time for one of the teachers to visit and see how we were doing – by using the guest Virk Room at AU-1, in my case. But that was almost two weeks ago, which seemed more like a million years ago after all that had happened.

‘I'd better go and meet him! Thanks for reminding me, Budi.'

I scooted out through the golden door into the grass-carpeted main corridor just in time to see
the entrance open. In stepped Mr Guildenhall, my Commerce teacher, looking like a wombat emerging into the sunlight. His rather rotund body – normally concealed beneath baggy brown cords and a moth-eaten jacket with elbow patches – was revealed in all its chunky glory by the generic grey bodysuit, and his expression was one of nervous bemusement. It was all I could do, as he blinked around at the brightly coloured doors, not to burst out laughing.

‘Hi, Mr Guildenhall!' I called. He looked up.

‘Alex! Thank heavens. I was wondering what I'd do if you weren't here to meet me.' He took a cautious step towards me, wobbling slightly. ‘I've never been in one of these virtual environments before.'

‘Really?' I asked politely, though it was pretty obvious from the way he appeared to be walking in lower gravity than everyone else on the planet.

‘My goodness, you could swear this was real grass, couldn't you?' He stooped to run his fingers over the floor. ‘Astonishing! I imagine the possibilities with this technology must be vast, don't you? Good heavens, is that gold?' He tapped at the door admiringly. ‘And I just open it like this?'

‘Now you're getting the hang of it,' I told him as he walked through the door in an almost normal fashion.

‘Do you think so?'

‘Oh, yeah,' I assured him. ‘You never know, you might like virtual environments so much you'll start hanging out down at Virtuadventures with all the year nines!'

He chuckled. Then, as the sight of the open space area with its jungle of plants and pink mountain scenery hit him, his mouth actually dropped open. It was in this sophisticated pose that Inge first saw him as she sauntered over.

‘You must be Alexandra's teacher,' she purred, extending a hand as though she expected Mr Guildenhall to kiss it. She didn't bother to hide her amusement as he shook it awkwardly. ‘I am her mentor, Inge Wellenschnitter.'

‘Christopher Guildenhall.'

‘Please, come and make yourself comfortable,' said Inge, directing him towards the water couch. But comfortable was definitely not what Mr Guildenhall looked to be as he contemplated the apparently unconfined liquid of our communal seating.

‘It's okay – you don't actually get wet or anything,' I murmured to him.

Cautiously, Mr Guildenhall lowered his grey-clad nether regions onto the couch. A small tidal wave spread out around him, then subsided. Inge sat down close by.

‘So, you will be glad to know that Alex is doing very well here. She gets on with her colleagues, and learns quickly. We are very pleased with her.' Inge smiled at Mr Guildenhall, ignoring me completely. She straightened herself on the couch so as to give him the full benefit of today's dress – a skin-tight black creation with an even more revealing neckline
than last Monday's red one. Mr Guildenhall, however, did not seem impressed – unlike Dale, I recalled with a twinge of embarrassment. His lips compressed with a depth of disapproval that even Nix's football-team-mooning antics hadn't generated.

‘I'm glad to hear it,' he said stiffly. ‘Would it be possible for me to speak to Alex in private for a while? It's school policy to interview the students alone about their placements, so they can speak freely.'

‘Certainly.' Inge stood up, looking slightly affronted. ‘I am extremely busy this morning in any case. Please let me know if you require any more information on Alex's performance.'

‘Thank you.' Mr Guildenhall nodded at her. There was a little frown on her face as she stalked away, for once not bothering to swing her hips. Clearly having a man ask her to leave wasn't a common experience for Inge.

‘I've been doing these visits long enough to know her type,' said Mr Guildenhall, shaking his head. ‘Only interested in students as a way to make themselves look clever. Don't care about helping the next generation at all. Ambition is an ugly thing, Alex.'

It was my turn to gape. Mr Guildenhall must have noticed my astonishment, because he leant forward with a suddenness that set the couch swaying, and pointed at me with one stubby finger.

‘Not that you should show anything but respect for a mentor! It's important to put your personal feelings
aside in the workplace. Remember that everyone here is giving up their valuable time to help you, Alex!'

‘Uh … sure,' I said. Mr Guildenhall nodded his approval.

‘So are you enjoying your placement here?' he asked.

‘Yeah, it's been great so far. Well, you know – except for the whole boss-being-murdered thing!' I grinned to show him that I really wasn't all that traumatised.

He goggled at me. ‘Boss being
what
?'

‘Wait – you didn't know?' Somehow I'd assumed Inge or someone would have notified the school. But then again, with all the police shutdown time, Elena's arrest and the Avatar Robotics meeting, I supposed it was hardly a priority.

‘I certainly didn't! A senior staff member was
murdered
? Not while at work, surely?'

‘Um, yeah, I'm afraid so. In his office,' I told him, wishing I'd kept my big mouth shut.

‘And no one thought to inform Flinders High?' Mr Guildenhall was getting louder and louder. ‘Good heavens, Alex, what kind of show are they running here?' He peered at me in concern, as if my level of psychological scarring was written on my face. ‘I hope someone offered you counselling? Did you have to speak to the police?'

‘Well, yeah,' I muttered uncomfortably. ‘I mean, I was the one who found the body …'

‘You
found
the
body
? And they've just expected
you to come to work as though nothing happened? Right, that's it – I want to see whoever's in charge!' Obviously forgetting he was sitting on a virtual water couch, Mr Guildenhall tried to leap to his feet, only to slide forwards and land on his hands and knees. As I strained to help him up, wishing Virk wasn't quite as accurate with its weight representation system, Elena came rushing over.

‘Oh, dear!' she cried, adding her own strength to my efforts. Mr Guildenhall struggled to his feet. ‘Are you all right, sir?'

‘I'm fine,' he barked, looking alarmingly red in the face. ‘It's the wellbeing of my student that concerns me! I wish to speak to a manager, or a head of department – whoever you've got who's senior. Straight away, if you don't mind!'

‘Of course,' soothed Elena. ‘My name is Elena. I'm the office manager, but I think you'll be wanting one of Alex's mentors, won't you? I'll go and find someone for you – and perhaps you'd like to sit down while you're waiting?' She hurried over to my cubicle, bringing back a chair. Mr Guildenhall sat down, looking relieved to be on something solid.
Nice move, Elena
, I thought, watching her scurry off.

Within moments, Budi appeared through the door to Grody's wing and went straight into action, introducing himself as my second mentor, complimenting Mr Guildenhall on the quality of students his school was turning out, detailing all the work I'd been doing at
Simulcorp Marketing and generally giving the whole situation a major smoothing-over.

‘Well, of course I'm very pleased that Alex has been doing well here,' said Mr Guildenhall, ‘but I'm still somewhat concerned that no one bothered to contact the school. She may have been traumatised by the horrific event that took place here. No one seems to have done anything about that!'

‘I realise you must be extremely worried, of course,' nodded Budi, steepling his hands. ‘It was a ghastly thing that happened, and we're appalled that poor Alex had to experience any part of it. But she's shown extraordinary bravery and a great deal of determination to carry on with her placement here – in fact, she asked to remain at work during the afternoon off we gave her the day following the unfortunate event.' Only the twinkle deep in Budi's eyes gave away the fact that he was beginning to bend the truth slightly. ‘Of course, we wouldn't hear of her doing so. I'm sure the time to reflect and seek the support of her family and friends went a long way towards mitigating the shock she suffered – wouldn't you say, Alex?'

‘Oh, yes,' I said earnestly as Mr Guildenhall turned to me. ‘I'm fine now. I just want to get the most out of my placement.'

‘Well …' Mr Guildenhall seemed to debate whether to continue the argument, but Elena appeared at that moment with a well-timed cup of coffee, which he accepted gratefully. ‘As long as Alex feels all right about it all …'

‘I'm delighted to see that there are still educators out there with their students' best interests at heart,' smiled Budi. ‘I should be getting back to work – unless you have anything else you'd like to ask, sir?'

‘No, no,' Mr Guildenhall waved his suggestion away. ‘Thanks for taking the time to speak with me.'

‘Now, are you sure you're comfortable here?' asked Elena, fussing over Mr Guildenhall. ‘I could see whether the Conference Room is free, if you'd rather somewhere completely private.'

Mr Guildenhall beamed at her.

‘No, don't trouble yourself. I'm much more comfortable now, thanks to you!'

Elena's golden skin flushed pink.

‘Oh, I'm so glad! Now I'll leave you to talk with Alex, but I must tell you before I go: Alex is such a wonderful girl! She's just a delight to have with us. I know all the people she's worked with have commented on how bright and keen to learn she is, and …' She paused to smile at me, her huge eyes shining. ‘Besides all that, she's a truly thoughtful and compassionate person.' I felt a stab of guilt at that, remembering my interview with Senior Constable Rivers.

Mr Guildenhall blinked at me, startled.

‘Good gracious! Well, I'll be sure to let her other teachers know what glowing reports Alex has received here.'

‘Uh … thanks,' I managed. If there's one thing that makes having someone go on about how awesome
you are even
more
uncomfortable, it's having the other person look downright amazed to hear it.

‘Well, Alex,' said Mr Guildenhall, watching Elena as she left, ‘this is certainly one of the most unusual work experience visits I've ever done – and I've been doing them for nearly twenty years! There aren't any other strange occurrences you want to tell me about, are there?'

‘No, definitely not.' After all that, I was hardly going to tell him that a fellow student had been taking video footage of my butt and that some other guy had been stalking me for days.

‘Very well. It seems to me that, despite everything, you're doing a good job here. But I feel I should give you a word of advice, Alex.' He cradled his coffee cup in his hands, frowning into it. ‘The business world – the really high-end parts of it, I mean – can be very tempting to a young person. But it's worth bearing in mind that a high-powered job can skew your priorities unless you're very level-headed. A little ambition can be a great motivator, but too much can be a destructive force. Oh, yes,' he said, waving a hand dismissively, ‘I know you're probably thinking I'm only saying this because I chose teaching over a corporate career, but I think you should look at the people here and ask yourself if you genuinely want to be like them.'

He nodded at Inge, who was standing at the other end of the room tapping her foot impatiently while Dusty picked up a pile of papers on the floor. Closer by,
Budi was doing a little spin in front of Li-Mei's cubicle to show off his bright orange sarong.

‘You know, sarongs are
traditional
for men in Indonesia, Mr Guildenhall,' I pointed out.

‘I highly doubt that traditional sarongs feature a design of tyrannosauruses using mobile phones, Alex, but I wasn't referring to his dress sense. Budi seems very pleasant, but I must say that when a young man is that practised at smooth-talking, I wonder why he's needed the skill often enough to polish it.' He squinted up at me. ‘Oh, yes – I knew he was doing his best to put a good spin on things for me. He strikes me as the sort of chap who speaks very nicely to one's face, but not so nicely behind one's back.'