Dark Matter (30 page)

'So who do we tell?'

'Well, we should report back to Jay.  Let's keep it at that for the moment, we don't want to start making noise until we have seen one of these dome mines up close.  For now, I think we need to understand more about the market for gold.  I'm going to call a guy I know in research.'

'Hi Duncan, its Jane.  Yes I'm fine thank you, you?  Great, look, quick favour, - who should I talk to about the Gold price and the Gold market?  Jack Hamilton.  OK but it needs to be someone who can talk candidly, so they can't be currently employed.  Still Jack Hamilton.  Who is he?'  Jane listened as Duncan gave her a brief run-down on Jack's biography.  'Well it certainly sounds like that's the right person.  No Duncan, I didn't mean to sound surprised
I know
you always provide the right information, I was just agreeing with your analysis.'
Duncan is great,
Jane thought to herself,
but he is very touchy about his professional credibility
.  'Can you send me his details?  Thanks Duncan, take care.'

'So where to?'  George asked innocently, trying to suppress a grin.

'London, Belgravia.'

14:20
              12 December  [14:20  12 December GMT] 

Chester Square, Belgravia, London, England
.

The house was one of those large, Georgian affairs; white stone with gleaming black doors and detailing.  The doorbell gave a strong, bellowing ring that reverberated within the confines of the house.  Jane was surprised when the door was answered by a woman.  Slim, quite short, long blonde hair she was young and fit with stunning good looks.  Jane was instantly envious, despite the fact that they were similar in almost every respect except age, and she could do nothing about that.  Jane looked again at the number on the door, she had the right place she was sure.

'Hi, can I help you?'  Sally asked politely.

'Oh, we were looking for Jack Hamilton.'  Jane replied, surprising herself that she felt somewhat nervous.

'Who can I say is calling?'  Sally retorted, not impressed that Jane didn’t introduce herself.

'Oh I'm so sorry.  I'm Jane and this is George, we are journalists working for Global Disclosure.  We were hoping to interview Mr Hamilton in his capacity as an expert on the Gold market.'  Jane had lurched back to being formal, hoping that it would persuade the woman of their honourable intentions.

'I'm Sally.'  She said, thrusting her right hand out in front of them in greeting.  'I'll let Jack know you are here.  Please come in.'

Sally showed them both in to the drawing room, returning with Jack and Anita.

'Hey George, good to see you.'  Jack said as he walked over to embrace his brother.

'It's really good to see you again too Jack.  You’re looking well.'  Jack caught the
"You’re looking well"
comment and realised he had better introduce Sally and Anita.

'George I'd like you to meet my two research assistants; Sally Brewer and Anita Kumar.'

'Hi.' 

'Sally, Anita I'd like you to meet my brother George.'

'Wow!'  Anita gushed, 'you never mentioned you had a brother!'

'Calm down.'  Sally whispered.

'Brother?’  Jane could not prevent the word coming out as a stinging rebuke, as if she had just caught her husband cheating on her with her best friend.  George started to chuckle.

'You didn't tell her?'  Jack asked his brother.

'I couldn't resist the opportunity to see that look on your face.'  George explained to Jane.  'You have to admit it is kind of funny, you being this great investigative journalist and all.'

'Why you....'  Jane couldn't finish the sentence, as she realised the absurdity of the situation.  ‘OK you got me.  I hadn't even thought to ask you if this Jack Hamilton was a relation, even though I know you have a brother.  Well...’  Jane paused before going on, 'I guess that just leaves me.  Jane Spencer-Brown, I'm a reporter with Global Disclosure.'

The introductions complete, the two brothers disappeared to make drinks and rustle up some biscuits.  As they re-entered the drawing room the conversation between the three women fell silent.

'You been talking about us?'  George asked Jane.

'You should be so lucky.'

Jack placed the tray down on the coffee table and offered round the drinks.  He sat down in one of the chairs, idly wondering to himself why he didn't spend more time in this room,
it’s a room that needs people to come alive.
  Chocolate biscuit in hand, he was torn between nibbling and dunking.  He decided to dunk.

'So how can I be of help?'  Jack asked awkwardly around his biscuit, part dissolving, part melting in his mouth.  This was one of his few annoying habits.  One of two that really irritated his brother George.

'We need to know what you know about the Gold market and the Gold price.'  George asked.

'Sure.'  Jack replied, not really aware of what he was saying or the way in which he was saying it, 'Just get a First Class International Business Degree, followed by an internship and employment with one of the top dealing firms in the world.  Spend years working your way up through the firm until you are in charge of the whole Gold dealing division, proving yourself along the way by making exceptional deals and returns for your company and clients alike.'  Then Jack added, somewhat unnecessarily, 'Or at least that's how I did it.'

That
, George thought to himself,
is his most annoying habit.  Why can't he just answer a question without showing off?

'We don't have time for that.'  Jane had dealt with others like Jack; one's who believe that you can't have knowledge without the experience. 
That is true,
she thought,
if you want to practice the knowledge, like carpentry.  You can be told exactly what to do, but you still need experience of it to be any good.  However if you just want to commission a carpenter, or understand whether a carpenter is the right person for the job, then you just need knowledge of what they do and how they do it.  The same should be true of a gold dealer.

'Sorry.'  Jack apologised, 'I don't know why I do that.'

'That's OK.’  Jane replied, smiling.  'So, the Gold market?'

'Well,' Jack began, 'I...We have actually been investigating the market going back millennia.  I have taken a sabbatical from work to finish my PhD looking at why Gold has any value and why it has been so sought through time.'

'And what have you found out?'  Jane asked, leaning closer.

'Well it's far from finished, but all the indications we have so far point to very unusual results.  We have investigated other precious and useful materials, and all have a strong correlation in price to their uses, particularly their commercial uses.  Gold doesn't.  The price of Gold has been out of range of its usefulness in eight out of ten of the last centuries.  Most of the time it has been way out of range.  Like ten to a hundred times its true value.'

'But,' said Jane, interjecting, ‘wasn’t it used to set currency rates.  The gold standard?  It's also used for jewellery.  Surely those must account for the difference?'

'We've made allowances for that,’ Jack assured her, 'besides why have people put such faith in Gold?  Sure it's the least reactive of the elements, so it'll last a long time, but so too are diamonds and they weigh less.'

'There's more isn't there?'  Jane inquired, her journalistic senses tingling.

'Yes, there is.'  Replied Jack, dropping both the tone and volume of his voice.  'In tracing the price movements of gold we have also traced the trades of gold and as well as its physical movements.  This was the most surprising find of all.  There have been an increasing number of trades of gold decade by decade, but the corresponding number of physical movements has remained more or less constant, but with a slight upward trend, which relates more to the annual increase in the production of gold, than it does to trades.  So we went back further, convinced that this was a post-industrial phenomenon.  It wasn't.  We went back further still, classifying any change in the legal owner of gold as a trade.  The trend not only remained it became more pronounced.  That's when we ran an analysis of the history of particular gold deposits.  Gold seems to have an almost finite limit on the amount of times it will change physical location.  That is totally unlike any other material we compared it with.  From being mined, gold on average moves approximately sixteen times then it stops moving.  It's twelve in Asia, twenty in Europe and eight in the Americas.'

‘OK, so let me see if I have got this straight.’  Jane said.  ‘You’re saying that Gold, on average, moves only a fixed number of times and then just sits there.  Forever?’

‘Yes.’

'Why?'  Jane asked, her curiosity rising.

'We don't know.  Yet.' 

14
La Guitarra

16:44
              13 December  [22:44 13 December GMT]

Mexico City International Airport, Mexico City, Mexico.

The flight having been suitably uneventful was over and they were on final approach.  As the in-flight entertainment had been switched off and their drinks removed, Jane and George took the time to go over their plan again.  They had decided against approaching the Sunarr with a request to visit one of the camps both to avoid alerting them and because they felt that, the request would be turned down anyway.  They had talked to Jayanti before leaving England.  They couldn't trust the phone in her office so before they had left George had given her his.  George's phone came with the latest encryption software, although he wasn't sure how it might stand-up against the level of technology that the Sunarr might have for cracking it.  Hence, the need for Jayanti to have a phone the Sunarr didn't know about. 

During the conversation, Jayanti had revealed that there was still no official recognition of the camps, either from the Sunarr or by any of the governments.  As far as the world was concerned, all was normal. 
Word will get out eventually, it always does,
she had added.  They realised that they needed to know what was going on before security at the camps was tightened further.  The decision not to make a request to enter the camp left them with the dilemma of how to gain access.  George suggested that there was a good chance that humans would still be employed at the mines.  Certainly, they had not heard of masses of mineworkers being made redundant, so they were probably still there. 
Humans work for money
, and this he suggested would be the way in to the mine.  They had chosen one of the Mexican mines because it was felt that it would be amongst the easiest to gain access to as Jane had some good Mexican contacts.  The plan was straightforward enough.  They would locate the town close to the mine where the mineworkers spend their free time.  There they would make discrete inquiries with the aim of finding someone who could get them into the camp, for a fee.

19:03
              13 December  [01:03 14 December GMT]

Maria Isabel Sheraton Hotel, Río Danubio, Cuauhtémoc, Mexico City, Mexico.

Jane had made a call to one of her contacts from the airport after they landed; he was waiting in the bar of the hotel for her.  He didn't look as relaxed as he normally did.  She didn't like having to leave George behind in his hotel room, but she knew that her contact would never speak in front of two people at once. 
Two people could provide for corroboration; a conversation with one person makes for deny-ability.
 

He saw her enter the bar so he rose and headed for one of the booths in the back of the room, he chose one that was not well lit, sitting under the one working light so that whilst his face was in shadow he could keep an eye on the room.  As Jane sat down opposite him one of the waitresses trotted up to take their drinks order.

'You're looking exceptionally well Jane.'

'And you are still as charming as ever Eduardo.  How's the wife and children?'

'They are fine, thank you.' 
So, it's straight to business then,
he thought.  'What is it that I, a humble civil servant can do for you?'

Eduardo Gonzalez a humble civil servant?
Humble my arse,
thought Jane
, you're the deputy chief of police in Mexico City and what you don't know about isn't worth knowing.

'The Sunarr.'  Jane almost whispered it out.

'I see.’  Eduardo said wiping the sweat from his brow.  'I know some things, I want to know more.  We will do a trade no?  Yes, we will exchange what we know and you will make a contribution to my favourite charity.'

If only all my contacts whereas straight forward as him, he wants a bribe and a large one at that, I'll wager.

‘OK’ Jane replied simply, 'what have you got?'

‘Well’ Eduardo took a long pull on his beer, 'They have made some very powerful friends in the government.  This has caused a split, not along party lines, but between those the Sunarr favour and those they do not.  The usual process of governing has all but ceased.  The only game in town is the trade for technology.  They have been given everything they want, or at least I haven't heard that they have been denied anything, so that is the same, no?  The Ministry of Justice is favoured, the military not.  The rest are not so clear, with certain politicians having their backing.  Access to the Sunarr is all-important, and they will do anything to gain it.  There are secret meetings, I do not know the substance, but I can guess.  They are dealing out the spoils.  One other thing, there was a ruckus in the Finance Ministry but that quietened down when the Minister resigned, supposedly on health grounds.'

Jane pondered all this for a second.  'What do you know of the mines?'

'Probably less than you.  However it is rumoured that some have been handed over to the Sunarr who apparently have a better extraction technique.'  Eduardo chuckled to himself.

'Why the laugh?' 

'Because I am not a fool.  The prisons near the mines are emptying fast.  I guess the Sunarr's extraction technique involves a lot of manual labour.'

Jane knew Eduardo well enough to know that he didn't care what happened to prisoners,
rot in prison, rot in a mine, it is all the same to him.

'So what have you for me?'  Eduardo took another long pull on his beer, mopped his brow again, and relaxed back into his seat.

'It's the same story really.'  Jane was wondering how much she should disclose.  'The Sunarr have enmeshed themselves into the government of each country.  Officially, they are discussing things; however, I have heard that the discussions are mostly one way and that they are entering into very long term agreements.  No country wants to be left behind, and they definitely don't want to be left out.  Those countries that the Sunarr haven't engaged with but who are powerful enough are entering into agreements with countries who have been engaged.'  Jane stopped to take a sip of her drink and think through what she was going to say next.

'Your country is not the only one with mines.'  Jane took a breath.  'They are building huge domes over the mines all around the world.  We have no idea what they are doing inside and no one is talking.'  Jane took another breath.  'They also seem to be exclusively gold mines.'

'Arhhh so it is true!'  Eduardo exclaimed.

'What's that?'  Jane inquired, pleased that the additional information she revealed had provoked a response.

'It is rumoured that was why the Finance Minister really resigned.  When he found out that vast reserves of gold had been promised to the Sunarr in future payment he protested.  He reasoned that if it was worth that much to the Sunarr it must be worth more to us.  He was given his marching orders.'

'I need to get into one of those mines.'

'I see.  That will be an extra contribution.  Go to the town of San Simon de Guerrero ask for Manuel Gonzalez, he is my second cousin, in the Hotel Posada La Misión he will be expecting you.'

'I am with a colleague'

'Then he will be expecting you both.'

20:25
              13 December  [02:25 14 December GMT]

Hotel Posada La Misión, San Simon de Guerrero, 60 miles South West of Mexico City.

The Hotel Posada La Misión is a fairly typical example of a Mexican bar come hotel.  The colourfully tiled walls, floors, and archways give it almost the appearance of a theme bar.  However it is both a practical method of providing a clean interior as well as providing much needed decoration to what would otherwise be just drab cement. 

They checked in arranging an open-ended stay.  The manager didn't seem to care much one way or the other, they were paying the posted price, which was three times what was normally paid, and for that, they could be a little vague.  They left a deposit of a week’s stay and departed to their room for much needed showers.

Changed and refreshed they entered the bar, the clientele they could tell straight away were almost entirely locals or Mexicans at least.  This was not a tourist destination, but then Jane and George were not here to see the sights.  Their cover, if it became needed, was that they were a newly married couple on a long honeymoon wishing to see some of the real world and Mexico was their first stop. 

The bar was busy but not overly crowded.  The other patrons paid them little attention.  San Simon de Guerrero was off the beaten track but not off the map altogether.  A little early, they grabbed a Corona each and found a table, cluttered but free.  They didn't have to wait long for their contact.  A large burly Mexican walked into the bar, the patrons making room for him as he swaggered his way through the crowd.  Not only did he match the description, but also he moved with the air of someone in authority.

Another policeman,
Jane thought to herself.

He clapped eyes on the two gringos and sat his considerable bulk on one of the remaining chairs.  A half smoked Cohiba wedged between his fingers flared into life as he drew on it.  The smoke flowed out thick and pungent, it hung in the air and added to his image as a bandito. 

'You 'ave a letter for me?'  The man said releasing more of the thick, acrid smoke.

He is not as sophisticated as Eduardo, there is no pretence here,
Jane thought to herself as she handed over the envelope bulging with cash.  He took the envelope and not stopping to count it, secured it into an inside pocket.

'You understand what we want?'

'Si, wanna go La Guitarra.'

It took Jane a moment to process his accent,
yes La Guitarra, the name of the mine
.

'Yes.  You think it is possible?'

'Si, of course.  There is little I cannot arrange...'  He left that thought hanging in the air, giving them both the distinct impression that the law in this town was made in the mind of the man sat opposite them. 
It's a good job I made this contact through Eduardo; I doubt this one can be trusted much
.

'How will we get there?'  George spoke up, afraid of putting their trust and safety in the hands of this man.

'A bus leaves in the morning.  Eight.  The driver will come for you at ten to.  Be ready.'

'Does the driver know?'

'The driver knows he has two extra passengers, geologists.  As far as he is concerned, the government is doing an inspection.  Just be sure to pick up some rocks.  Who knows, you might get rich!'  He laughed at his own joke as he rose to leave.

'One other thing.  If you are found out I don't know you.'

He swaggered his way back through the bar and left them to contemplate the implications of being found out.

The following morning they were dressed as best they could, smart casual but with good boots on, and standing in the lobby waiting for the driver.  He arrived in good order, but speaking little English, he said “bus” and motioned for them to follow him.  The bus itself had obviously seen better days in the thirty or so years since it had rolled off the production line.  Its current owner provided only minimal maintenance requiring it just to transport passengers a relatively short distance twice a day.  There were two other buses in the street, one either end of theirs, both of which looked just as rough.  The driver brought them to the front of the queue, opening the door he ushered them to sit in the front, as if they were dignitaries.  They both guessed that the driver had been well but not overly compensated for his trouble.  The sun was rising fast and with it, the temperature.  The drive to the mine at La Guitarra was thankfully short; if the bus ever had air-conditioning, it had long since given up trying to cool anything.

They both saw the dome in the distance, glimmering majestically.  The time it took to reach the entrance gave them almost a feeling of vertigo such was its overwhelming size.  They noticed four of the armed Sunarr guards outside the dome, however they were stood well to the side and there were humans there who looked like they were the ones to inspect vehicles.  The bus groaned under its own weight as it juddered to a halt.  The driver opened the door to let one of the Mexican guards board.  The driver greeted him warmly, and spoke rapidly to him in Spanish, pointing to them halfway through his dialogue, at this the guard looked round and then opened his shirt, the driver slipped three envelopes into his open shirt and the driver quickly fastened it and hopped off the bus, waving it on.

It is necessary,
thought George to himself,
no, essential that in a world where the powerful can be corrupt, that others lower down need to be a bit corrupt too, otherwise despots could rule unchallenged.
  He realised that police the world over had operated on this basis for years, ignoring the small fish to land the big fish.  He guessed it applied to governments too.